More juicy stuff! Atton seems to be attempting to steal the story… I’m maybe almost getting used to writing him in third person instead of first. I spent a lot of time making sure the first half of this chapter was interesting, but then the second half gave me way too much trouble. Bring on the introspection, forget the action!

Atton’s barfight was scripted while listening to run rabbit junk. Swoop bike chase written with DMC’s Blue Rose.

Part 5

 

Part 6: The Lost Jedi

 

He went to bed with his head buzzing, fear and excitement warring within him. He’d told her, and she hadn’t killed him. She hadn’t even left the cockpit, or even her seat. No matter what he’d said to her, she’d taken it, and all she gave back was a second chance. A real second chance, the best one he’d ever been given. She really meant it, too. He knew she wasn’t going to take it back, but emotions faded slowly. So, he was still nervous about seeing her tomorrow.

If any of the others found out what he’d told her… Mical for one would probably murder him.

But to be a Jedi… maybe not all of his boyhood innocence was gone, to look forward to being kind of a superhero. He’d come to hate them for their arrogance, their self-righteousness, their cloistered, illogical hypocrisy. But they were still, in general, supposed to be cool people who helped the needy with their magic powers. As Selyn did.

And Selyn herself… no. How in the galaxy could she and the woman who destroyed Malachor V be the same person? General Tekeri might have committed one of the worst atrocities in recent history… but Selyn was his guiding light. He couldn’t hate her, not now that he knew her. She knew some of the hypocrisies of the Jedi and turned away from them, and she certainly wanted nothing to do with the horrors of the Sith. She wasn’t some otherworldly immortal. She was as human as he was, and she was living with that, same as he was.

He’d never be a proper Jedi. Maybe he didn’t want to be a ‘proper’ Jedi. Ha, that would be wildly out of character for him, to be one of those sanctimonious dorks. To be like Mical. Mical would be a proper Jedi, if she trained him. All he wanted was the strength to protect her, to see her stand without the weight of Malachor on her. Maybe it was impossible. He wanted to try, anyway. Just this once, to do something right that meant something.

He really hoped he didn’t mess this one up by goofing up or running away. That would be his greatest failure. Oh, he’d live if he did it… if that guilt could be called living. And if Kreia didn’t catch up to him. Right. Kreia. He needed to resolve a few things with her.

He rolled over in his bunk, reaching one hand up to the ceiling, concentrating again on that warm energy that the Force revealed itself to him as. It seemed to him almost as if he could close his eyes and still see the dorm… no, seeing was the wrong term. He just knew how the room was, and sight and sound and touch all together fell short in their metaphors. And he could dimly feel Bao-Dur’s presence from the next bunk, sleeping peacefully. He tried to reach outside of the room and failed to capture specifics. But he could sense the powerful roil of Nar Shaddaa outside the ship, and if he really, really concentrated… that bright spot that was Selyn, somewhere else on the ship, not asleep yet either. No idea how she was feeling, only that she was there.

He’d only started that afternoon. He considered that decent progress.

Suddenly tired, he rolled back over and tried to sleep.

 

She couldn’t sleep, replaying those moments in her head over and over, when he’d stroked her hand, when he’d kissed her hand. She’d had romantic feelings before, but it was never the time or place or person to sustain them. She’d been hit on before, by Padawans going through puberty, by soldiers under her command before they learned to respect her. But ten years of exile had left her ill-practiced to deal with… advances. And the feelings they stirred up with them. There had been one person in particular who was special to her…

Atton was different, somehow. He wasn’t exactly straight-forward, and normally he was very difficult to read, but he seemed more… real than most of the people in her past had been. Was it because they were older? They might not have much time together, past or future, but ‘not much’ was more than ‘none’.

At first his flirtation seemed to be a joke, to go along with all the jokes he made about hookers and strippers and flirting with every remotely-attractive female who crossed their path – mostly Twi’leks and Togruta. He’d even said that Kreia had been beautiful at one time. But what he’d said to her today, the gentle gestures he’d used… that was not a joke. He genuinely liked her.

And he’d been honest with her. Certainly, she started it, but he didn’t have to tell her about his past. Whoever he had been, whoever ‘Jaq’ had been, she was certain that the Atton that she knew was the real one now.

Did she love him? The Jedi Order taught that love, and all other strong emotions, could have terrible consequences and were therefore to be avoided. She’d done her best to follow that, when she was younger. But she no longer equated ‘falling in love’ with ‘falling to the Dark Side’. Love was part of Life was part of the Force. Humans in particular could no more avoid loving than they could breathing, even the most hate-filled and broken of them. Love’s negative hangers-on, lust, jealousy, envy, could certainly drive a person to do terrible things… but love itself could also inspire them to do great things. She loved everyone on her crew, even HK to some extent, but she had to admit at least to herself that Atton was special to her. He stood at her side always, defended her even against his own inclinations, made her laugh. And was really good-looking. Don’t start thinking about his eyes.

Wasn’t that the essence of a Force Bond? Wasn’t she good at creating Force Bonds because she loved too easily? Or was that getting too philosophical? In that case, how was she so tightly bonded to Kreia, whom she had not known before? Did Kreia love her so much?

What should she do? Did she dare nurture these feelings, counter to everything she’d been taught, to see where they led? Or should she shut them out and focus on her mission, her destiny, instead? Would her feelings do as they pleased and grow in spite of whatever she decided? Would these feelings drive one or other of them to the Dark Side, caught up in the drama and the tragedy of the galaxy, the echoes of the past, with no chance for a stable life for either of them? Or would it keep them strong as they believed in each other?

She could not guess at the answers to any of these questions, and some of them were definitely getting ahead of herself. Whatever she did, she didn’t want to lose him as a companion, as a friend. She could see this journey through without him… but she didn’t want to. Even if he was a danger to her.

Kreia, she knew, did not approve of him in the slightest. But if she couldn’t prevent it, Kreia certainly couldn’t.

His mouth had been dry but warm against her fingers, with just the faintest roughness of stubble on his chin.

Would she ever sleep that night? Force, she was such a teenager. She’d have to lock all of this away so Kreia couldn’t pick at it – good luck with that, she told herself – or at least so as not to confuse Atton. She’d acknowledge these feelings to herself and see what he did next. Maybe he would do something that would help her over her fear of this decision.

 

He stalked down the Ebon Hawk’s corridor to the women’s dorm, smacked the door control to let him in, then smacked it again to close it behind him. It was empty except for one figure kneeling on the floor; the rest were out.

“Why are you here?” Kreia demanded quietly without turning.

It’s too early in the morning for existential questions, he quipped in his head. “Because I told her, I told her everything.”

“Ah. And now you are free?”

“Yeah. So no more threats, no more of your ‘requests.’ You and me, we’re done.” If he was coming along on this suicide expedition – and he sure as hell intended to – he wanted it to be entirely of his own free will. He only had one master: Selyn. Not Kreia.

Kreia slowly stood and turned to face him, and he felt his gut turn cold at the regal intensity of that unseen gaze. “Did you ever think I truly held you? You are more of a fool than I thought. What truly held you was you – and let me show you why. I once held the galaxy by the throat… as you held her by the throat, and let her die slowly. And your emotion at that point is what you fear.”

It was. It was, and the fact that she had a leash not just on him but on his fear was turning his heart into ice now. He was as much a fool as Kreia said he was, to think it was so simple to escape her.

That dry, unemotional whisper droned on, boring into his skull. “I can unlock that part of you anytime I wish. It is a simple thing, the human mind; once it feels something strongly, it becomes etched in the memory, the subconscious. Shall I show you? That part of you that hungered to kill Jedi, that took pleasure from it? Or perhaps you will continue to listen to my counsel and I shall ignore your pathetic attempts at freedom.”

No. No, he was good. No demonstrations, thanks. That nameless Jedi, Selyn, they were getting all mixed up in his head. She had been a Mon Cal, but features and skin blurred and melted in his memory until he was left with human skin, smooth black hair, and big brown eyes, staring up at him with no hint of betrayal, only a deep sadness as his hands locked around her neck. He stared in horror, although now he couldn’t tell if he was looking at Selyn’s face or Kreia’s mocking disinterest.

She finally turned away and he dared breathe again, shades of the past clearing from his vision. “Now leave me, murderer. I have nothing more to say to one such as you.”

He scrambled for the door control and beat a rather undignified retreat.

 

He wondered if Selyn knew that something was wrong when he joined her and Visas later that day for Jedi training or whatever for the first time. He was counting flickers in the lights overhead, just in case. But she didn’t say anything, only looked pleased that he was there, and slowly the coldness began to leave him. But there would always be a core of dark fear inside him that no meditation could undo.

He tried to explain a little of it, while Visas was solidly meditating and not paying any attention to him – at least that he could tell. “I don’t know if this is going to work. I know you said something about a Jedi not having fear, but I’ve got too much baggage to let go of my fear.”

She looked at him with a supportive smile. “It’s a work in progress for everyone. You’ve only just begun.”

“That sounds like tripe,” he grumbled, disappointed that she’d try comforting nonsense on him, and she shrugged, the smile fading.

“Maybe it is. Only a perfect being could overcome the limits of personality, background, even biology to truly be without fear, and I don’t know about you, but I’m not perfect. Not even Jedi are perfect. As you know well enough.” She fixed her eyes on his. “It’s like they say, though – that a brave person is not the one without fear, but the one who knows they are afraid and does what they have to do anyway.” There was a hint of a self-deprecating smile on her face as she said it. What was she afraid of? What could she be afraid of?

He grimaced. “Then I’ve never been brave.”

“That’s not true,” she said softly. “And your… baggage will never leave you. Maybe it will never feel lessened, even. But you will find it easier to carry.”

He looked at her, trying to read in her eyes whether that was really true for her. He couldn’t tell. He knew how to read fear, and lies, anger, hate, lust. But of course he saw none of those things now, only earnest seriousness, and his fumbling touch in the Force only showed her to be just as warm and bright as she’d been the day before when he ‘saw’ her for the first time.

When all else failed, just ask. It wasn’t as if she’d get mad at him after yesterday. “Is that true for you?”

“Yes. And no. But mostly yes.”

“Very helpful.”

She frowned at his sarcasm, trying to find the words. “It… is easier in that I don’t feel like killing myself every day. It’s not easier in that I keep running across things that remind me of it, but I have the strength to keep going now.” She stopped abruptly, and he didn’t push further, not now.

When they began to meditate again, he reached out to her apologetically, and her presence brushed his briefly, reassuringly. She wasn’t mad. She just didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

 

When they went out into the underbelly of Nar Shaddaa, she used their surroundings as a constant teaching opportunity. He thought he knew the place pretty well, but he was surprised at how many quiet spots she was able to find just around to catch a moment of meditation in. And it seemed that she was doing this much more often than before. For his benefit? He didn’t mind. He had to get good fast.

Even after a couple days, it was getting much easier to sense the Force, to sense it all around him. When they got in alley fights, which still happened on a daily basis, it was like he knew what his enemy was going to do, and his speed, his reflexes were even better than they’d ever been. Also his aim was better, and it wasn’t too shoddy to begin with, either. It was weird, to give up control in a way, to gain even more control.

She was pretty good at this Jedi training stuff. He told her so.

She shrugged. “I…’ve never done it before. I hope it works out. It’s actually very arrogant of me to be doing this in the first place.”

“What, is Kreia giving you a hard time about setting up your own little Jedi Academy?”

“No, actually, and that confuses me.”

“I told you it was gonna happen, as far back as Peragus.”

She chuckled. “I suppose you did. I thought you were joking.”

“I was. You just had to go and take me seriously, didn’t you?”

“I take everything seriously, especially you.”

Her slight smile was teasing, but he had to wonder how much truth there was in her words, and if he dared hope… “More than Kreia?”

“No. Kreia’s older than you. More life experience. Didn’t you know you should listen to your elders?”

“Dang. I’m pretty sure I’m a standard year or two older than you.”

“Good thing I’m the teacher, then.” She seemed so innocently pleased with herself he had to grin.

 

He supposed he shouldn’t be jealous when she asked first Mical and then Bao-Dur to be Jedi, too, when the blond and the Zabrak started showing up to their meditation sessions. It really was turning into a mini Jedi Academy. But he couldn’t help the little zing of satisfaction that he was her first – besides Visas, who kind of didn’t count because she had already been partly trained when she arrived. No, he was her first student, and Mical was not, and he knew it was very un-Jedi to think that, and he couldn’t help it. The least he could do was not mention it to Selyn. Although he was pretty sure she knew. Good as he was at hiding things, she was getting to know him and his moods and his body language too well, especially regarding his competition.

He was greedy and selfish. He wanted her all to himself. The others, did they feel the same way, or was it just him?

But it was also a mark of pride when, a week later, she gave them all their first lightsabers; she’d been teaching them to spar with vibroswords up until that point. It had been a while since he’d had to use his close combat skills… the ones he’d trained in when he was an assassin… But he was a new man now, right? He was using these skills for Selyn now. Didn’t truly matter where they came from. He hadn’t been too shabby at it, back then, although he’d relied more on his wits and tactical planning. Even now, if the situation called for a blaster or a grenade, he was going to use it. But this was important too. The Sith were still out there somewhere, and they seemed fond of melee combat.

He hefted the silver hilt in the palm of his hand. “Aren’t I supposed to make my own?” he asked.

“No time, and no resources, not when we already have these. But you are going to learn how to take it apart and put it back together, just like your blaster.”

“Fair enough.”

His was yellow. Mical’s was green, Bao-Dur’s was a different shade of green, and Visas’ was blue. He wasn’t sure why, but yellow seemed to suit him very well. He wasn’t totally sure he trusted Visas with a ‘saber yet, though.

“I think you could use two,” Selyn said. “You use two blasters, right?”

“I can use two,” he said. He’d used twin vibroblades on occasion. “But for now I’ll just keep using my blaster in my off-hand.”

Actually using his blaster in his off-hand was trickier than it sounded. The lightsaber had so little mass in comparison he felt unbalanced. But it would have been more unbalanced to use ‘saber and vibrosword.

She pushed him hard in his training, and he welcomed it. Blind obedience might be an easy master, as Kreia had once said, but did he like it? Hell no. A woman who challenged him, who was better than him and treated him as an equal, who, despite knowing his past, trusted him for whatever insane reason… not an ‘easy’ master, but a satisfying one.

 

She had been out with Atton, Bao-Dur, and T3, when she got a call from Mical on board the ship. “We just received a message on the comm that I think everyone should hear.”

“I understand,” she said. “We’ll be right back.” She nodded to her companions and they turned to follow her quickly.

They gathered in the common room of the Ebon Hawk, and Mical set the message to playing. A hologram of a Quarren appeared above the projector. “Welcome to Nar Shaddaa, Selyn Tekeri. I regret that this message has taken so long to reach you, but I only recently became aware of your presence here. I am Visquis, a representative of an… exchange of shipping interests here on the smuggler’s moon. I am extending an invitation to you to join me in my private lounge within the Jekk’Jekk Tarr, where we may speak without being disturbed. I wish to discuss something of mutual interest concerning your past profession – and prospects for the future.” The Quarren hesitated, as if about to end the recording, then said: “Oh, and do come alone – one human in my presence at a time is enough.” The recording ended.

“Well, good thing it’s not a trap,” Atton said sarcastically.

“No, Atton, I think it may actually be a trap!” Mical said with complete seriousness.

Atton rolled his eyes. “Would you please lighten up for just one second?”

“It may be a trap, but traps work both ways,” Kreia said. “You should probably not keep this Visquis waiting. If you have attracted his attention, you have probably attracted the attention of others as well.”

Selyn nodded and checked her pockets. She had her blaster, her lightsaber… “Wait, the Jekk’Jekk Tarr doesn’t have a human-friendly atmosphere.”

“There’s an envirosuit in the cargo bay,” Bao-Dur offered. “One moment and I’ll get it for you.” He returned in a minute with a bulky backpack case. “It’s space-worthy, so some fumes should be no problem.”

“Thank you, Bao-Dur.” She hoisted it onto her shoulders. “I think I’m set, then. Sit tight and don’t get into trouble while I’m gone.”

“We will,” Mical assured her.

“Yes, Mom,” Atton teased.

She nodded to them all and set off down the ramp.

 

But he knew more than anyone how much danger she was in right now, and when the others weren’t watching, he slipped out and ran after her. “Hey.”

“Atton?”

“…Look, I just wanted to tell you to be careful. I won’t be able to contact you via the commlink if something happens, and I’m betting that squid-head knows it.” He dug in a pocket and held out a bunch of antidote packs he’d raided from the medbay. “Look, take these. If your suit gets breached, you’ll need to inject them fast if you don’t want your lungs to seize up. And trust me – once the seizures start, you’ll be dead.”

She nodded solemnly. “I’ll remember. Thanks, Atton. …You’re not going to wait on the ship, are you?”

She knew him too well, and he had to grin. “Nah. I’ve got things to keep an eye on out here. Watch yourself, and… uh… don’t take too long.” He hesitated, then reached out, tilting her face up with a finger under her chin and kissing her forehead through her bangs.

Her face was pink and her eyes were anxiously curious when he pulled back a moment later, and that made him feel awkward now too. “Uh. Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

“Be careful, Atton.” The moment had already passed, she was back in control and her face showed nothing of whatever she was feeling right now. She nodded to him and trotted off determinedly.

“Hell yeah I will,” he muttered, marching in the direction of the cantina.

 

She rounded a corner and came face to face with a smugly smiling red-haired woman. “So, you’re the Jedi everyone’s been talking about. You don’t look so tough to me.”

A bounty hunter, as far as she could tell. Or maybe someone with a message, metaphorical or otherwise. “I am no Jedi… but I’m tougher than I look.” Was she really not a Jedi, if she could feel the Force, if she followed their code? No, they had exiled her, and she did not belong to them.

The woman snorted. “I thought Jedi were supposed to be smart, and here you are running around Nar Shaddaa sticking your lightsaber in everyone’s business. What, were you planning to save everyone on this moon? You’re attracting more attention than a fleet of Sith warships.”

“I have a meeting with someone,” Selyn said. “So if you don’t mind, could we continue this conversation later? I’ll give you my comm channel.”

The redhead’s smile dropped, replaced by deadly intensity. “I know you’re meeting with Visquis. If I know about it, that means everybody else on this moon knows about it – or will soon enough. And when that happens, the bounty hunter truce is off. That means things are going to get really ugly, really quick.”

“I can handle it,” Selyn said.

“I think your friends are the ones in danger.”

“And you want to help me?” she asked skeptically.

“In a way. But I don’t want to discuss it out here. C’mon, I have a safehouse around the corner.”

Getting sidetracked could be bad for meeting with Visquis… but she didn’t sense any hostility from the woman, and keeping her friends safe was more important to her right now. She followed the woman. “Who are you?”

“Name’s Mira. I’m the best bounty hunter in this system, and that’s not me bragging, that’s fact. I’ve had you in my sights since you landed. This way.” They went down a ladder, across two small bridges, down another ladder, and finally down a stairwell to a dingy, smelly corridor. Mira checked to see that no one was watching, then unlocked a door and gestured Selyn inside.

The smell was much stronger in there, but Selyn wrinkled her nose and put up with it. “All right. What do you propose?”

“I know that squid-head Visquis sent you a message to meet him in the Jekk’Jekk Tarr. He works for Goto, and it’s a trap. No surprise there. Thing is, he intends to cut the bounty hunters out of the loop and deliver you to Goto personally. Not smart from where I’m standing. That’s why you’re going to stay here and I’m going to go meet him in your place.”

“What?” Selyn blinked and almost choked on the exhaust smell. It was making her light-headed; she shouldn’t stay here long. How did Mira stand it? “And do what? Talk him out of it? And what makes you think I’ll let you put yourself in danger like that, bounty hunter or no?”

Mira smiled. “Well, actually, you don’t have much of a choice. I know you’ve noticed the stench in here. All the freighter exhaust from the docks, you know. Some aliens actually like breathing it, if you can believe it. But it’s like a sedative for humans. Anyone without olfactory blockers like me is going to start feeling dizzy and eventually fall unconscious…”

Selyn didn’t hear her finish her sentence; reeling, she stumbled towards the door and fell forward on her face.

 

The local bar was good for two things: a seemingly limitless supply of juma juice, and a decent view of the square outside. Atton sauntered boldly up to the bar and leaned on it. “Gimme a hit of juma, and keep ’em coming.” The place wasn’t too crowded, since it was still the middle of the day, but he wasn’t wanting for attention, some of it curious, some of it… a little less friendly.

And within seconds, as he’d guessed, he felt female fingers caressing his shoulders on both sides. He snagged his drink and turned to face the scantily-clad Twi’lek women with a grin. “Well, well, looks like staying on the ship was definitely a bad idea. You two have names? You work here, or…?”

“We are dancers, yes,” purred one in Rylothean, sliding sinuously under his left arm, her orangish lekku falling into her cleavage in a really distracting manner.

“Slaves once, now no longer,” the other said, still stroking his other shoulder with slender blue fingers. “I am Seer’aa.”

“And I am Teer’aa. You are looking for something – perhaps us?”

These girls were hopelessly transparent. “Sure, yeah. What’ll it cost me?”

They shook their heads, smiling, lekku twitching eagerly. “Nothing of value. We only wish to get to know you, handsome stranger.”

If he had a credit for every time he’d heard that line. “You wanna grab a booth over there?”

They led him to a booth, taking care not to spill his drink, and settled him in, one of them massaging his shoulders – really well, he had to admit – the other draping herself over his lap. Tight leather pants and corset-laced bras were everywhere, and a few months ago, that would have been great. But now it was difficult to get too distracted when he was thinking about leather jackets and red tights.

He knew not to get too relaxed anyway, not to fall for their sensual seduction. How old were these girls? They probably had the combat moves, but subtlety they didn’t got. Yeah. He could take ’em. After he’d bought Selyn a decent amount of time to move without their attention on her. Pretend to be relaxed, but ready to move on a hair-trigger.

“So…” he drawled after a couple minutes. “You do this to all your targets?”

Quick as a flash, the one on his lap, Seer’aa, had a vibrocutter to his throat while the other seized his shoulders to hold him still. “We only wish the beautiful Jedi,” she said with a mock-sweet smile. “Submit and stay… or else we shall kill you and find other bait.”

His answering grin was almost a sneer of self-assurance. “Why don’t you two schuttas try it, and we’ll see what happens?” Yellow eyes widened in surprise and fury.

Headbutt the one behind him. Juma in the face of the one in front of him. Vault the table, tip it over, draw blaster and lightsaber.

Amber yellow hummed to life in his right hand as he sent a volley of shots towards the girls with the other. Bar patrons, scrambling with evident practice for cover – it was Wednesday, after all – suddenly froze and stared, for just an instant, before racing for the exit. He heard cries of “Jedi!” and grinned. This would definitely get the bounty hunters off Selyn’s back.

The Twi’lek girls had recovered from the surprise he’d given them and were coming after him, vibroswords in both hands for both of them. He kept them honest with a few more shots, then parried the one who’d closed more quickly with him. He couldn’t flip around like Kashyyyk tachs, like they could, but he’d played this game before. Just keep backing up until one of them makes a mistake, keep them both in view. If they try to flank, shoot out a light or something to distract them and reverse course. And for stars’ sake, don’t hit a bystander or Selyn will get her sad face on.

Their teeth were bared in bloodthirsty smiles. They thought they were predators. “Heh. Good thing I didn’t have both of you pegged as assassins as soon as I walked in here. I didn’t realize so many bounty hunters had turned their trade into murder, but I guess you two are so desperate you’ll turn to anything for a quick credit.” At least they weren’t taking hostages. It would be pretty pathetic if they started taking hostages… to take a hostage.

“You know nothing of us, treacherous human,” hissed Teer’aa. “We hunt for the pleasure of it.”

“I’m the treacherous one?” He smirked, one eyebrow raised. Frak, they had him pinned between them; his lightsaber held off Teer’aa for now, locked with both her vibroblades while Seer’aa charged him from the other side. He gave a flick of his wrist, twirling Teer’aa’s guard around until his ‘saber was free, and shooting under his right arm for good measure before jumping back as Seer’aa’s blades whipped through the air he’d just occupied.

Thanks, Force. If he hadn’t had even as much rudimentary training as he did, he would have been too slow there. They were brilliant fighters, almost as good as Jedi; this was was going to be hard. They’d drawn back a bit to observe him, and the three of them circled slowly, poised and alert. He twirled his ‘saber, making the hum flange with a distracting display of colour, waiting for them to make their move, his blaster tracking first one and then the other.

Without any obvious signal, they simultaneously swooped in from either side; he was running out of space behind him and rolled back over another table, kicking it towards them. Seer’aa vaulted it and he shot a volley at her; a bolt caught her in the upper left chest and she went down flailing.

Teer’aa shrieked piercingly and dove at him, and he had to holster the blaster hastily and take the lightsaber in both hands to gain the strength and control to hold her off. She’d lost most of her grace in her emotion, hacking at his guard like she had a pair of Gammorrean war-axes instead. He’d made a mistake in being too accurate, in finishing off Seer’aa too quickly; now Teer’aa had no reason to hold back. He slid back into the middle of the room, giving himself more space, snagging one of Seer’aa’s swords along the way. Two can play at the dual-wielding game, sister.

Parry, parry, parry, counter-attack. She was giving him a rhythm; the question was, when would she break it? And could he break it first?

Danger, screamed his subconscious, and he flung himself backwards in time to avoid getting slashed across the chest. The upper hand was now hers and she was chasing him back, and he let her. Discretion is the better part of valour. If it wasn’t for the fact that leaving her alive with a death grudge would be incredibly stupid, I’d be running for the streets already. Instead, he waited, and watched, and parried, waiting for her to make her own mistake. He sure as hell wasn’t going to beat her down with skill alone.

In her rampage she swept up a heavy bar-glass and flung it at him; without even thinking, he ducked and heard it smash behind him; droplets of juma sprayed over him. Hey, wait. Let her do that again. There was some space between them now, and he picked up a glass of his own to hurl back; she flipped out of the way and grabbed another glass.

He was ready. He put all his concentration into it, and the glass came to a halt in mid-air. He felt additional sweat break out on his forehead – didn’t Selyn say using the Force shouldn’t be hard work? Must be doing it wrong still – but she had hesitated, staring in disbelief. He pushed, and the glass moved halfheartedly towards her.

It was enough. She was fixated on the unexpected retaliation when his lightsaber slashed across her ribs and she shrieked again, curling reflexively over the wound before dropping to the floor and lying still.

He stepped back, turning off the lightsaber and dropping the sword, and glanced at both unmoving bodies. Well, that’s it. The bounty hunter truce is off. It’s going to get real bad, real fast. He looked up at the bartender, who was just emerging from cover. “Send the bill to the Ebon Hawk, landing pad 673. I gotta run, my friend’s in trouble.” The bartender nodded mutely, nervously staring at his jacket where he’d stowed his lightsaber again.

Once outside, could he lose himself in the crowd? He had to get back to the ship before another yahoo or bunch of them came along.

There was a shout, and a blaster shot came zinging by in his direction. Bystanders yelled and scattered. Fraaaaak. Over there! Swoop bikes!

Even as he found the catch for the swoop bike’s control panel and ripped the cover off, digging for wires inside, the blaster shots were getting closer, and there were a lot of them. Hurry up, hurry up… The engine grumbled into action beneath him, and he seized the controls and kicked it into high gear. This was definitely not a bunch he could outfight, only outrun. Not without back-up, anyway.

Even as the bike screamed off down the street and into a warren of tunnels through the skyscraper ahead, several more swoop bikes settled in behind him. He dared a look back. Duros, definitely gunning for him. The Zhug clan, probably. Geez, what a day. And if he read the situation right, the ‘day’ was just getting started.

He leaned low over the handlebars and pulled a ninety-degree turn into a new passage without braking. Shots were tracking him, and he kept the bike juking and dancing, weaving through the tunnels and oncoming traffic at the highest speed he could pull out of the thing. Which wasn’t a bad speed at all. The engine thrummed under him, vibrating his body comfortingly. He liked this bike. Maybe he’d keep it afterwards. If he got through this intact.

He slewed around another corner, G-forces trying to drain the blood from his head, but he kept on course, cutting off a van and sideslipping to put it between himself and his pursuers. The streetlights, vehicle lights, and blaster bolts blurred into long shining lines around him. A new growl of engines on his right alerted him to a new set of bikes, poised to intercept him. They knew these particular tunnels better than he did. If he stayed here, they’d shoot him sooner or later. Time to bring out the crazy.

The exit to open air was just ahead. Surely they’d be coordinating, waiting for him to come shooting out at his best speed.

He slammed on the brakes and killed the repulsors.

The swoop drifted, seeming to glide gracefully through the air without propulsion of any kind. It floated out through the tunnel exit and to the edge of the road.

He wrestled with the controls, pointed the nose straight down and gunned the engine. It came back to life with a roar, flirting with gravity and protrusions on the side of the building. A volley of heavy blaster fire barely missed his tail, and he was gone into the depths of the city.

 

Selyn was dreaming. A moustached figure was standing over her, and a vaguely familiar voice was filtering into her ears.

“When I first heard you were on Nar Shaddaa, I didn’t quite believe it. I didn’t think anyone could track me here, but I see I underestimated you.” The figure paced. “I have watched you as you have traveled the Refugee Sector. I’ve seen what you have done… what I refused to do. Even exiled, you are more a Jedi than I.” It turned to her, nodding resolutely. “If anything, know that your actions have convinced me I can stand by and watch no longer while the Exchange closes its grip on this sector. A friend has gone to meet Visquis in your stead, and I intend to rescue her. I will return shortly, or not at all.” It turned and vanished.

What a strange dream. At least the air didn’t stink anymore in her dream. She closed her eyes again.

 

He brought the stolen swoop bike to a skidding stop in front of the Ebon Hawk’s landing pad and breathed an exasperated sigh. The Duros had continued to chase him for miles before he managed to finally lose them. Still, he knew they were coming straight here after they gave up looking for him. “Hey! Hey! We need to move out!” He’d pay that bartender later. Like, tomorrow.

Mical stuck his head out from the medbay. “What is wrong? What is happening?”

“The truce between the bounty hunters is off. There’s going to be war. A trap in the Jekk’Jekk Tarr is bad enough, but having a hundred bounty hunters on your back is somethin’ else.”

“We cannot disrupt the meeting until the alien has given up his information to the Exile,” Kreia objected.

Screw the information. “They’re coming after us, not her. We need to get out of here, or get ready for a big fight.”

“If they’re coming after us, they will be after her as well. We must rescue her!” Mical was already heading for the ramp, lightsaber inside his sleeve, blaster rifle in hand.

That made him pause. For once, the brat was right. “Yeah… you’re right. But I’m guessing we’re in a lot more trouble than she is.”

“What makes you say- oh.” Bao-Dur had followed the others down the ramp, and stopped at the sight of forty Duros all lined up across the entrance to the landing pad.

Mical, Bao-Dur, Visas, HK, even T3 were ready for them. Atton turned back into the ship. “Going to come help, your majesty?”

He already knew the answer: silence. This wasn’t her problem.

The leader of the Duros was gargling something at them while he was distracted. “Anybody here catch that? All I understood was ‘very.’”

“I think he wanted us to give up Tekeri to his poorly trained collection of bounty hunters,” Bao-Dur quipped softly.

He smirked. “Which one do you want?”

Bao-Dur’s answering smile was like a cloud-shadow on Dantooine’s plains. “I’ll take the stupid one who decided to threaten us rather than shoot us when he had the chance.”

Four lightsabers blazed in the darkness beneath the Ebon Hawk.

 

Selyn stood in the centre of Visquis’s lair beneath the Jekk’Jekk Tarr, breathing hard, and looking with a not altogether friendly eye at the Quarren who stood before her. “You have finally arrived, both much sooner, and much later than I had hoped.”

“No thanks to you,” Selyn said crossly. She’d expected it, but it was still distressing to have to fight and kill an entire bar full of aliens with nothing more than the Force to protect her against the chemicals inside. “Where is Mira?”

“I had hoped you would have seen the other human on your way in. I cannot say where she might be. But let us dispense with the pleasantries. You are, after all, human, and therefore impatient. Based on your actions alone, I take it you are not familiar with the organization I serve… or my responsibilities. I run the Refugee Sector – I decide what happens here, I control the flows and currents of this sector. You have caused a great deal of trouble for the Exchange here on Nar Shaddaa, and I wish to know why.”

“The Exchange has put a bounty on Jedi, and I want it lifted.”

“So you are the Exile mentioned in the coreward database. It seems my squeezing of the Refugee Sector has yielded success, after all.” The Quarren rubbed his fingertips together in an expression of satisfaction. “My soon-to-be-deceased boss, Goto, is the one who placed the monumental sum of credits upon your head. Your price is so high that any bounty hunter who captures you would be able to buy their own planet. You must have angered Goto greatly for him to hunt you so.” Impressive, but meaningless, if not downright annoying. “And that is why you are the perfect bait.”

Sickly green gas began rising from the floor around her with a hiss. She stood perfectly still and stared him down.

“Oh… the gas… But it…” The Quarren panicked. “Attack! I order you to attack the Jedi!” Black-armoured soldiers filed in and she raised her violet lightsaber… but they ran towards the Quarren and surrounded him.

A new, nasally voice spoke from an overhead speaker. “While the Jedi remains on Nar Shaddaa, my eyes shall watch over her.”

The Quarren sputtered, but it was too late. Before Selyn could intervene, the soldiers had fired on him and he fell, smoke rising from a dozen wounds.

“What an amusing Jedi specimen you are,” mused the voice from the speakers, and Selyn had a sudden feeling of danger.

She could fight soldiers. She could resist gas if she knew it was there. But a massive electric discharge from nowhere was not something she could fight, and she went down and out again.

 

They’d arrived at the Jekk’Jekk Tarr too late, he already knew in his gut. The lightsabers were hidden so as not to alarm the locals and bring too many enemies down on them, but there was a red-headed woman stripping out of Selyn’s envirosuit at the entrance to the bar, or one that looked exactly like it.

He pointed his blaster at her. He was taking no chances. “Who are you and what are you doing with that?”

The woman looked up as if she was not surprised by him in the slightest. “You’re running a little late. Visquis is dead, but his trap worked, and your friend is already with Goto – and that means no bounty for me. There’s no way to get her back as far as I know; no one knows how to reach Goto except Visquis, and that squid-head died beneath the Jekk’Jekk Tarr. The only way to reach Goto is if we had a Jedi, but now, he’s got your friend, he doesn’t have anybody else he wants captured.”

Well, that was just insulting, after all the work all of them had put in over the last couple weeks. “What was your role in all this?”

“My name’s Mira and I was actually trying to keep your friend out of this trap.” She grimaced. “By blundering into it myself like an amateur. Look, I’ll help you get your friend back.”

“What? You’re obviously one of the bounty hunters after her!” Mical exclaimed.

“That’s right, and I don’t like getting cheated. Now, are we going to make a plan, or are you going to sit on Nar Shaddaa and stew about it?”

 

He crouched by the doorway, painstakingly messing with the wires inside, while Mical stood watch for him. He was beginning to have to admit, the brat wasn’t bad in a fight. Even helpful to have along. And despite their perpetual and probably eternal animosity over their differing personalities and unspoken rivalry over Selyn’s attention, it could have been his imagination but he thought maybe Mical was coming to respect him too.

As if proving his usefulness, Mical raised his rifle to his shoulder and blasted a droid in the face as it stepped around the corner. Mira and HK were on the other side, shooting away at their own targets.

And then the blond opened his mouth. “Aren’t you almost done yet?”

Forget that respect nonsense. Atton hated his guts. “Shut up, this is sophisticated crap. It’s not like Republic security at all.”

“Republic security is good!” insisted the Republic fanboy.

“Not compared to criminal overlords’ it ain’t. Ah, got it!”

The door slid open and HK stomped inside, swinging his rifle this way and that, but there were no hostiles present here. Only her. “Declamation: Master, the sight of you alive and in one piece fills my heart with extreme joy. Amendment: At least, that is the sentiment of all the irritatingly squawking meatbags accompanying me.”

She was kneeling on the floor even though there were seats nearby, meditating, but as their group entered, watching behind them for pursuit, she rose with a gentle smile. “You made it.” She looked tired, and like she’d suffered burns, although the blisters on her hands already looked faded. Force healing, no doubt. But he felt his hackles rise. If this Goto had tortured her…

He couldn’t show that kind of emotion in front of her. It was bad for his Jedi mental health or something. “What, you were worried?” he joked instead. She smiled at him, and at Mical, and even the assassin droid, but turned her full attention to Mira.

“And you came too. Thank you. I was looking for you under the Jekk’Jekk Tarr, and I was so worried…”

“What were you worried about?” Mira demanded. “Number one, I’m a bounty hunter, I can take care of myself. Number two, we should get out of here before reinforcements come.”

“True.”

“Number three, it’s weird for a target to be worrying about her hunter,” Mira muttered, more to herself than to them. “What, do you get Stockholm Syndrome really easily?”

“Statement: Given past data, it would be entirely in character for my Master to exhibit such behavior. Only thank whatever imaginary deities you hold dear that she has not asked you to join her collection of Jedi yet.”

“Ha, me, a Jedi?” Mira laughed. “I’m no Jedi.” She looked at Atton. “Of course, some of you don’t seem like Jedi either, but you’ve got the laser swords. Guess anyone can be Jedi these days now that they’ve all disappeared.”

He glared at her. “What are you looking at me for!?”

Selyn was suspiciously silent. Wonderful.

“We found your lightsaber,” Mical said, but before he passed it over, his eyes widened. “What happened? You were injured?” He began inspecting the burns on her hands, holding them gently and turning them over. Atton felt a jealous pout coming on. Quit it, he told himself. The kid has medical training. Not that he’s not enjoying showing her attention to the fullest, too.

“Electrical trap knocked me out in the Quarren’s lair. I’m fine. I’ve been working on them.”

“Ouch,” Mira said. “I got hit by one of those too, but less voltage, looks like.”

“I don’t have any salves with me. We should get back to the ship as quickly as possible for that reason alone.”

She pulled her hands away from Mical finally. “That sounds good. Thank you.” She took her lightsaber, but she didn’t hide it inside her jacket, not here, instead clipping it to her belt so it would be ready for the inevitable battle with droids on the way out. “What plan have you come up with?”

“We’re gonna shut down the cloaking on this ship, and let all Goto’s enemies take care of him,” he said. “Other than that, run like hell and shoot everything that gets in our way.”

“I don’t mind that plan,” she said. “It’s simple. Do you know where the bridge is?”

“I think it’s upstairs,” Mira said. “I’ll deal with this. You go back to the ship.”

“No,” Selyn said. “I’ll come with you. Whether or not you can do this alone, I wouldn’t feel right letting you go alone.”

Mira looked like she was going to argue, but he wasn’t in any mood to wait around and pushed past her. “We’re all going, come on. Safety in numbers.”

With Selyn to help them fight, things were much easier than they had been getting in, and they reached the bridge without anyone getting horribly injured. There were only droids on the bridge as well. What, is Goto an extreme germaphobe? Can’t stand meatbags, as HK would put it?

The cloaking shield controls weren’t too difficult to find, and Mira shut them off with a flourish. “I think that’s done it,” she said. “Sweet, sweet payback.”

He grinned at Selyn. “Let’s get home before the bounty hunter fleet blows this pile of droid parts out of the sky.”

 

Part 7

 

BONUS:

♫ That don’t impress me much
These girls got the moves but they don’t got the touch
Don’t get me wrong, yeah, they think they’re all right
But that won’t kill me off in the middle of this fight
That don’t impress me much ♫