Woman without a Country

They were gathered around the table, looking at the map. Atton had purchased back Kreia's goodwill with a plate of seven-layer cream and chocolate filled pastries, and Bao-Dur's with insanely spicy Zabraki cider.
"Well, we're almost there," said Atton cheerily. "The Smuggler's Moon, the gaping maw of Nal Hutta. Exhibits One through One Hundred Thousand on the list of 'Reasons why Hutts should never be allowed to colonize in your system.'"
"Nar Shadaa," said Kreia grimly. "All the detritus of the galaxy ends up here. Unemployed mercenaries, clanless Mandalorians, homeless veterans, wandering refugees, broken Sith, and fallen Jedi. They all come to the foul embrace of Nar Shadaa when they have nowhere else to go."
"And according to the records T3 stole from Atris," said Bao-Dur, "there's a Jedi Master hiding somewhere in there."
"Zez-Kai Ell," Ludmilla mused.
"Blessings of the Celestials!" She looked at Atton in surprise. "What?" he asked. "I thought you sneezed."
"That's his name."
Kreia snorted, trying to hold back a laugh.
Ludmilla smiled. "I don't know much about Master Ell. He was the only member of the Council to ask why. Not that anyone listened to what I had to say, but at least he asked the question."
"Not much of a recommendation, General."
"It's all I got," she shrugged. "Anyway, whatever is left of the Council, he's part of it. Useless as it is. Maybe he'll be willing to answer some questions so he can ask some of his own."
"I would not depend on it," said Kreia dryly. "How do you intend to find someone who has stayed hidden for so long?"
Ludmilla shrugged again.
"Nar Shadaa's such a great place for losing yourself," grinned Atton. "It would take a Wookie to track you by scent, and the stench would drive a Wookie mad. There are no records to speak of, and any public records that do exist are all available for easy purchase and easier removal. Oh, we should look into getting the ship's registration changed while we're there. So people stop finding us and stealing our ship."
"Good idea," said Bao-Dur. "How much would something like that cost?"
"Oh," said Atton airily, "I know a guy."
"You used to live on Nar Shadaa?" Bao-Dur asked, and Atton nodded. "I'm surprised you never went there, General. Too close to the Outer Rim?"
Ludmilla sighed. "The Hutts paid the Republic enough for a new cruiser to have Nar Shadaa declared part of the Outer Rim in the early part of my exile."
Atton and Kreia looked at her in shock, and Bao-Dur just laughed.
"That was you?" said Atton. "I remember the Republic going all crazy because Nar Shadaa was officially a part of the Republic."
"What did you do?" asked Kreia curiously.
Ludmilla sighed. "They just didn't want anyone to interfere with their business practices."
"Interfere," laughed Bao-Dur. "I can imagine."
"It was some stupid Hutt-run world on the Far Rim, I don't even remember what I did."
"You backed the only honest Hutt in four systems and helped her set up a representative democracy," said Atton in shock. "That was you, wasn't it?"
"Oh, yeah," said Ludmilla lamely. "That sounds familiar. Anyway. Changing the ship's registry would be a good idea. How are we going to deal with docking? Are there fees?"
Atton laughed. "It's Nar Shadaa. We just find an empty landing pad somewhere in the Refugee Sector and squat on it. We'll need to leave someone with the ship, though. I suggest someone old and respectable," said Atton cheerfully. "Nobody would harm an old woman."
"I'll stay, General. I'm still feeling kind of slow from Telos."
"We shall both stay," said Kreia. "Take the machine with you."
"Are you sure?" asked Ludmilla uncertainly.
"I will never be far from you, child," Kreia smiled softly. "If you need my insight, you have only to ask."
"We have the commlink, too," said Bao-Dur. "In case we need to get the ship ready for a fast getaway."
"And I am not certain how well I would be able to deal with the fool in his own element," Kreia snapped. "Be sure that he does not try to gamble you away in a pazaak game."
"Hey! I would never lose her in a pazaak game."
"Atton," said Bao-Dur calmly, "I notice you didn't say wouldn't bet her in a pazaak game."
"Oh, hey, we're almost at Nar Shadaa. I'd better get to the bridge," said Atton, and beat a fast retreat.
Ludmilla watched him leave, laughing to herself.
Bao-Dur shook his head, and went to refill his mug of cider.
Atton landed the Ebon Hawk on an empty and apparently abandoned pad.
"Well done, boy," said Kreia with a wicked smile. "I was half-expecting to be shot down again."
"Oh, that only happens in shuttles," Atton assured her, and they all left the ship to get some fresh air.
"Oh, that is some stench," said Bao-Dur.
"I'd forgotten how bad this place smelled."
Ludmilla checked her weapons and armor. "Old man, can you get some traps down? I don't want gizka on the ship."
"Oh, if you kill any, don't throw the bodies away," said Atton. "The Hutts will always buy gizka, alive or dead, poisoned or crushed. This is why I don't cook for Hutts. How can I compare to the rancid taste of poisoned gizka?"
Kreia shook her head in disgust. "Never speak of that again."
"So, where should we start looking?" Ludmilla asked. "Any suggestions?"
"It matters little where you intend to go, child. You will be drawn to that which you seek, whether you wish it or not. Just as things are drawn to you," she said, gesturing at an alien charging up to them, its wings fluttering wildly.
"What do you mean by landing this rust heap on my landing pad?"
"Your landing pad?" said Atton innocently.
Ludmilla looked away so she wouldn't laugh.
"Yes, my landing pad!" the alien raged.
"Oh," said Atton innocently, "it's just that I thought all these pads belonged to the Hutts, and that people paid for the right to collect docking fees. But that's not the same thing as it being 'your' landing pad, now is it?"
"Yes," said the alien, a little uncertain now. "I pay my fees to Grigga, and I run this pad."
"Well, yes, but see, I have this pad," Atton held up a datapad, "that has Grigga's stamp and says that I can land on any of his landing pads, anytime I want to, without paying."
"What?" squealed the little alien, his wings flapping even faster than before. "Let me see that!"
Atton laughed, mocking and cruel. "I don't think so. We all know how liable valuable things like this are to disappear, or fall, and then where would I be? I'd have no way to prove to Grigga's enforcers that I was within my rights. What? You seriously think I'd lie and pretend to know someone like Grigga just to avoid paying you a few measly credits?" Atton waved his hand in dismissal. "Go away. We're not staying that long anyway."
"Well, no, of course, it's just that, I have some … friends coming to visit, and I hate to inconvenience a friend of the Hutts, but I told them they could land here and I'm not sure how that's going to work out now."
"It'll be fine," Atton smiled. "If we're not gone by the time your 'friends' show up, we'll explain the whole situation to them. Don't worry."
"Right." The alien looked at them. The woman, tall and muscled like a Mandalorian out of battle armor; the smooth talker with the pair of blasters; the Iridonian who hadn't even bothered to look up from his work of laying grenades and poison around the perimeter of the ship; and worst of all, the old woman in brown robes. "Right. I'll just leave you to that." The alien fluttered away.
"Atton," asked Bao-Dur, "did anything that you just said have any relation to the truth?"
Atton grinned brightly. "I was telling the truth! I have a datapad."
Bao-Dur just shook his head, and Kreia retreated to the ship so that he wouldn't see her laughing.
"C'mon, T3, let's leave these boring people and hit the town! If you like, I can hook you up with a hot mainframe, full of data!"
"Atton!" Bao-Dur said sharply. "Do not get the General mixed up in any wild schemes."
"What?" said Atton innocently. "I was just thinking that T3 might want to have some fun while we're out drinking."
"No drinking. No gambling."
"It's Nar Shadaa!" Atton protested. "You just wiped out 75% of the available pastimes here, and I can't afford the slave market."
Ludmilla pulled Atton away. "We'll be fine, old man. Stop worrying. And stop pestering him, Atton."
"No, really, what am I supposed to do if I can't drink or gamble? I already have a woman. Unless you want to pick up a hot Twi'lek or two."
Ludmilla laughed, and put her arm around Atton's waist as they walked away from the ship.
"I hate this place," snarled Ludmilla, and dusted off her hands.
Bao-Dur walked around the corner to catch up with her. "Congratulations, General. You actually made it farther than I thought you would without starting a fight."
"I didn't start the fight!" she protested, and Atton nearly fell over laughing, supporting himself on T3. "You be quiet."
"General, please. This place is crawling with Exchange, bounty hunters, and broken Sith. Try not to attract attention."
Ludmilla grumbled to herself, and Atton kept laughing, unable to speak. "Will you stop that," she hissed. "You're going to start hyperventilating."
Atton tried to stop laughing, but couldn't, and Ludmilla grabbed him before he fell over.
Bao-Dur shook his head. "I'm heading back to the ship. Try to make it out of sight this time, General."
Atton rested his head on her shoulder, with his arms around her, trying to calm down.
She waited until Bao-Dur was gone before she looked down at him. "Why are you so nervous, Atton?"
He didn't look up before answering. "I forgot how much I hate this place. It's a cesspool of guilt and failure, built on misery. The only way to get it clean would be to burn the whole thing down to the ground."
Ludmilla put her arms around him, and held him close. "I can feel the life of this moon, almost choked beneath all the struggles and the sorrow. But it's still there. If you burned it all down, flowers would grow on the rubble." She smiled. "I'm not sure that it wouldn't be an improvement. We'd need to get all the people off the planet first."
Atton kissed her cheek. "Of course you would."
She pulled his head up to her, and kissed his lips. He was sweet as always, soft and slightly nervous at being kissed here in full view of anyone who cared to watch.
"Why do you like me?" he whispered desperately, before he could stop himself. "Really, why?"
Ludmilla sensed an emotional minefield beneath the question, and kissed his lips quickly before she spoke, forcing him to center on her presence. "When I was younger, I thought I wanted someone equal to me, someone who could keep up. Someone who would fight with me. But I'm terrible at following, I'm terrible at sharing. I always push out to the front. I lead, and I expect people to follow me or tell me what I'm doing wrong. I need someone to lean on me. I need someone to protect. And I want someone who is good to look at." She smiled at him. "I think you fit all of that. You're very good to look at, Atton."
He smiled, still slightly nervous, kissed her again. She held him to her, ran her fingers through his soft, dark hair, kissed him again and again.
"General! This isn't the time!"
Ludmilla pulled away in surprise, and looked over at Bao-Dur. "I thought you were going back to the ship."
"I thought you were going to continue with your mission."
"What?" she said innocently. "I thought you said to make out. Oh wait, I missed a word." She grinned, and took Atton's hand. "Let's go before he starts shooting."
Atton laughed, his equilibrium restored. "I left you a full pot of cider in the cold storage, by the way."
They walked through the quad, Atton taking her at her word and leaning on her. She knew she should tell him to stop, but her heart was singing at the feel of his body on hers, her soul rejoicing at their arms linked around each other.
"You're so cute," she whispered.
"You can't call a guy cute," he protested, in the most adorable way.
"You're a baby compared to me," she grinned. "I can call you cute if I want to."
He looked at her in surprise. "Wait, how old are you anyway? You cradle robber!"
She broke into quiet laughter, and hugged him closer. They continued walking around the quad, shopping, righting the occasional wrong, talking to random people. T3 burbled happily along behind them, zapping any random vermin that got too close.
Ludmilla looked curiously at one of the stalls, selling salvaged items. Part of her mind had been wondering why she had come to this world of pain and misery. The rest of her mind had been patiently waiting for the Force to show itself. She saw it here, a small thing, a small part of why she had been led to this place where so many of her fellow warriors had come to lie down and give up the fight.
"How much?" she pointed to the roughly tied bundle, of dark blue cloth that looked almost black in the dim half-light of Nar Shadaa. The merchant chattered away, naming a price well beyond her meager means.
"That's crazy!" snapped Atton. He didn't know why she wanted it; she did, and that was enough for him. He argued, bickering, bargaining, almost threatening. A slight pressure on his hand warned him when he was approaching the line that she would not cross, but the merchant had already had enough. It was a bloodstained bundle of garbage that nobody wanted, and he finally named a price that Atton was willing to pay. "You should be paying us," he grumbled as he picked up the bundle and handed it to her. "Here you go!"
She smiled at him. "I like watching you talk. You're really good at it."
Atton smiled happily. "So, what's in there anyway?"
"Do you know if there's a workbench around here anywhere? Or do we have to go back to the ship?"
"Tubb's place has a workbench, just up here." He led her to the old Sullustan's shop. "Hey! Deaf and blind guy! We're gonna use your workbench. He's deaf, and blind, but his droids do all the work anyway." T3 zipped off to meet the other droids in the shop, and Atton watched her curiously as she unwrapped the bundle, revealing neatly stacked pieces of light armor, and another wrapped bundle. "What is that – oh hey, you really are allergic to your clothing, aren't you?" he asked as she began pulling off the mercenary armor that she had been wearing.
Ludmilla laughed. "I'm changing. Have you ever heard of the Zeison Sha?"
Atton shook his head, and watched her pull on the kinothestic base layer, then strap on the light, flexible plates. "It's blue."
She grinned as she adjusted the cloak. "They're a splinter group of Force users. The story is long and quite disturbing actually, but I'm not going into it now. The important part is that they prefer to solve their problems directly, and almost all of them are Force users. Their armor," she adjusted the fit of her newly salvaged gear, "is designed to allow free movement and use of the Force, as well as being defensive. Unlike traditional Jedi robes." She bent over to show off the flexibility of the armor she had found, and did a handstand, before jumping back to her feet with a happy grin. "I've always wanted a set!"
She looked down at the second, smaller bundle. "And it seems that I'm meant to walk the same path as the original owner of this armor." She opened it, revealing a cracked and battered metal cylinder. "I wonder how long this has been sitting here." She cracked it open.
"Is that … a lightsaber?"
Ludmilla nodded.
"It's broken," Atton said, not sure how to feel. "Half of it is missing."
"Yes. Two of the internal parts are missing, but…." She rummaged in her bag, and pulled out the emitter that Bao-Dur had given her, and a plain blue focusing crystal. "This was my first crystal. I upgraded my lightsaber hundreds of times, but I never threw this crystal away. It's just a basic, blue crystal. The traditional color of guardians." She laid out all four parts, and looked over the casing.
"So you have all the parts except the thing to hold them in?"
"Mostly. I'd need some electronics and wires, too." She sighed as she realized that this wasn't going to work, and that she'd need to find a better casing to complete the new lightsaber.
"Well, Tubbs has a lot of electronic salvage. Hold on, let me check his stores." Before she could stop him, Atton ran off and started rummaging in some of the boxes. He came back in a few minutes, holding some random odds and ends. "Will any of this help? There's a cylinder thing, and some wires, and stuff."
Ludmilla smiled, and started going through the pile. She stopped. "Where did you find this?" She held up the black metal cylinder.
Atton turned and pointed at a box. "Over there. I think that's Tubbs' property. It's a box, it's Nar Shadaa, you open it and it's yours. There were also some other weapons in there, I took those too," he held out a blaster. "And there was a datapad, but it's all cracked. Like cracked in half. So, what is it? Is it helpful?" he asked hopefully.
She almost didn't notice that he was deliberately trying to distract her. Almost. "It's the casing from a Sith lightsaber. Looks like it was gutted years ago, though, there's nothing left but the crystal." She bent over the workbench, cracking open the casing and removing the red crystal. She carefully set the crystal aside, looked over some of the other parts, and began to work.
"Why are you keeping the red one?"
"To make custom colors," she grinned. "It's a trick Revan taught me, but you need a hyperdrive and lots of extra crystals to make it work. You burn through them fast."
"Oh." Atton watched her. An exiled Jedi who wore armor instead of robes, building a lightsaber from the salvage of long-dead Sith.
She used pieces from the casing that she had found hidden in the armor to make the handle look less menacing, as far as a weapon like a lightsaber could be made to look less menacing.
Ludmilla tested the weight and balance of the completed handle. It had turned out much better than she had expected. "It's a lot better than the first lightsaber I ever built." She spun the handle in her hand, tossed it into the air and caught it again.
"You haven't turned it on yet," said Atton in confusion.
"I know my work," Ludmilla grinned, and activated the blade. It shimmered solid blue, basic and plain, yet with unmistakable power. The characteristic hum of a lightsaber filled the room, and finally attracted the attention of the shop's owner, deaf as he was.
"Who's there?" said the Sullustan, and started walking around the corner, but tripped over some droid parts lying on the floor.
Atton forced himself to stop staring at her, and ran up to explain to Tubbs, while he helped him up. Ludmilla turned off the lightsaber, and followed. "And you did say we could use your workbench anytime," smiled Atton as he spoke loudly and slowly to the Sullustan.
"That's true," said the Sullustan. "It was nice of you to stop by, Atton. Let me know if you need anything." Atton helped the old alien sit down again at his table, and the Sullustan went back to working on an old memory core.
Atton shook his head, and held a finger to his lips to prevent Ludmilla from speaking. He led her away, around the corner again. "He's old, and kind of senile. But really nice!" He looked over at the workbench, where her old armor was lying in a neat pile with the vibroblade that she had been using on top. "Did you still want any of that stuff?"
"No," said Ludmilla calmly. She took Atton's hand again. "I have everything I need."
Atton blushed. "Oh. Well, yeah. His droids will just take all that then, you can just leave it there. Hey! Rust bucket! We're leaving!"
T3 beeped in protest.
"Don't call me names! Fine, whatever, let's go." Atton smiled at Ludmilla, and they walked out of the shop back to the quad, her new lightsaber hanging at her hip.
It was a little different now. She wasn't just another mercenary in battered armor who was oddly nice to people. She walked the same, said the same words. But the people of Nar Shadaa looked at her differently now. Some with grudging respect. Some with fear. And some, with hope.
But of all of the eyes in the marketplace, there was one set that weren't looking at her. And that was the gaze that she feared most.
"What are you looking at?" Ludmilla demanded.
His eyes, barely visible beneath a filthy black hood, were locked on Atton.
"He reminds me of someone I used to know," he said, his voice a deep growl.
A Human. A broken Sith, someone who knew the line that he could not cross, just as a fallen Jedi had taken one step on the path and could go no further. His yellow eyes drank in Atton's calm, mocking smile, and he stood unnaturally still, his hands folded under his dark robes.
"Really? Let me guess, he owed you money?" said Atton cheerfully.
The broken Sith shook his head. "He was beautiful in ways that you are not. Imperious and indolent." He looked at Ludmilla now, carefully examining her.
"How flattering," said Atton calmly. "Did you want something? Credits?"
The man growled, and glared at Atton. "I am no beggar," he hissed. He turned to look at Ludmilla again. "Where did you find him?"
"It doesn't matter," said Ludmilla, trying to keep herself calm.
The man looked back at Atton, his eyes hungry and devouring, and it was all Ludmilla could do not to punch the broken Sith in the face. "I loved someone like you, once. He left me."
"I'm sorry to hear you broke up," said Atton calmly, "but maybe you should think about moving on with your life?"
"We did not break up," the man snarled. "He broke me, and when I had nothing left to offer, no new suffering to amuse him, he left me."
"And you just stayed here, waiting?" said Ludmilla. "It never occurred to you to go after him? You call that love?"
The broken Sith glared at her, and she saw a dangerous light in his yellow eyes for a moment, then it faded again. "There are things that keep me tied to this place." He looked away from her, and didn't look at Atton again.
Ludmilla stepped forward, and grabbed his cloak, lifted him into the air. She gave him a little shake. "If you're not willing to chase what you love, then maybe you should let it go." She dropped him, and the broken Sith caught himself before he fell. She waited to see what he would do, and the man turned in a swirl of ragged black and retreated farther into Nar Shadaa.
"What was that all about?" asked Atton, and T3 beeped in confusion.
She looked at Atton, but didn't feel calm enough to talk. "Not right now, Atton. Let's just go." Ludmilla almost stalked off, but was stopped by a slender, graceful hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.
"Wait for me," pleaded Atton.
She smiled a little, and pulled him closer for a swift embrace. He kissed her cheek, a quick little kiss, but it was enough to center her again. "Remind me to ask you a question later."
"What if I forget?" grinned Atton, nervous and sweet.
"You'll remember," said Ludmilla calmly, and kissed his face. She felt his eyelashes on her skin again, as he closed his eyes. She kissed his lips, trying not to be wild with need, not to be domineering, but it was hard to resist his melting softness, his willing submission to her strength.
"You're the ones!" said a churlish voice behind them, and Ludmilla pulled away to see a questionably sober man in rags. "You're the ones who came in on that ship. My ship!"
"What?" said Ludmilla in surprise.
"That's my ship!" he repeated. "It was stolen from me. The Ebon Hawk," he rattled off the ship's registry key, and Ludmilla and Atton looked at each other.
"We really need to get the registration changed," whispered Atton.
"Sir, do you have any proof of what you say?" Ludmilla asked politely. She let Atton go, and turned to face the drunken pilot.
"I do! Right here. I've got the original registration papers, my purchase agreement, and the police report from when my ship was stolen!"
"What? It's our ship! Or, your ship. That I fly."
Ludmilla frowned. "Actually, it's not. Look, sir, if you could meet us at the ship in a few minutes, we can discuss this in private."
"What?" Atton stared at her. "What are you doing? We'll be stranded on this miserable rock if we give him our ship."
"Well," blustered the drunken pilot, "I'm sure we can come to some agreement. I'm glad you're not going to make a fuss over this. I'll just meet you there." He staggered away, towards the landing pad. "Get used to the feel of solid ground beneath your feet," he sneered.
"I could shoot him in the back," suggested Atton. "No one would ever know!"
"That's not really necessary, Atton. I'm sure we can figure this out. Let's finish our shopping and get back to the ship."
"What else did you need to buy?" asked Atton curiously. "I would think clearing up our ownership status would be more important."
"No, I just have one really important thing to do before I deal with anything else." She pulled him into her arms, and bent her head to meet his lips, drank in the sweetness of him, felt his pulse flutter in his throat. She wrapped her arms around him, pressed her body against his, pleased to note that her new armor didn't prevent her from feeling the hardness and softness of his body.
Atton dug his hands into her hair, kissed her back wildly and passionately. He pulled away from the kiss and buried his face in her neck, sighing softly. "I like your new armor."