Woman without a Country

"Your Shadow Hand has forsaken you." The man – if he could be called a man – was tall, covered in scars. He looked like he should have died from his wounds years ago. His voice was dark and deep, and his face twisted in pain.
The other – a tall man, enveloped in a long, ragged black cloak, his face hidden by a white mask with the semblance of a face painted on it – strode angrily across the room. He answered not with his voice but with thoughts that seemed to crawl inside one's head like worms in rotten flesh. She will return, he answered, she will return when I call her.
The scarred man laughed. "Then call her. You have lost her, as you have lost everything else."
The man in the mask looked at the other. She will return, he said again. You will see, he said voicelessly, and knelt to begin reaching across the stars to find his lost servant.
Suddenly Ludmilla realized that these two were the Sith Lords – the man in the mask was seeking Visas. He was the one who had tortured her, broken her to the Dark Side through fear and suffering. Her anger, white-hot with righteousness, flared inside her.
"What?" said the scarred man, and drew back.
The man in the mask scrambled to his feet in shock.
How is this possible, thought the man in the mask. You are in our minds, Jedi – how did you get here? You do not know us.
But she did know them, somehow. Darth Nihlus, the Lord of Hunger – he was the one who had devoured Katarr and all the life on it, leaving nothing but one wounded girl and a hole in the Force. His hunger had twisted him so badly that his face was unbearable even to his own eyes, so he hid behind the mask. He had lost everything in the wars – his wife, his children, his squadron. All of them had died, leaving him alone.
The other was Darth Sion, the Lord of Pain. He clung to life so desperately that he was willing to accept unending pain in exchange for immortality. Drawing on the Dark Side constantly, he regenerated his shattered and corrupted flesh. He was another hole in the Force, a gaping wound that could not heal so long as he existed. He had fought by the side of Exar Kun, died without dying, and had somehow become a Sith Lord. She wondered how, but then the connection was broken between them before she could find an answer. Sion turned and fled.
She could almost hear Kreia laughing in her mind as she was left alone in the dream world with Darth Nihlus. The mask turned to face her. "You abandoned her," snarled Ludmilla. "You will never harm Visas again."
Nihlus drew away from her in fear and rage. The Light was literally streaming from Ludmilla, a fire that he knew would burn him. She is mine, he insisted. Return her to me!
"Do I look like a coward to you?" Ludmilla took a step closer, and he backed away again. "Do I look like someone who would abandon someone under my protection?"
There was a stillness for a moment while Nihlus considered her. "You abandoned me." His voice was hollow and cold. "General. You abandoned all of us."
Ludmilla flinched, but she didn't retreat. "If you were at Malachor V, I failed you. I didn't abandon you. If you want to punish someone, I'm right here. But leave Visas alone." The fiery Light inside her dimmed slightly, allowing Nihlus to come closer if he wished. He didn't.
"Keep her, then. When you fail her," he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice, "she will be mine again." Nihlus turned and walked out of the dream.
Ludmilla sat up in bed, startled and shaken. Atton made a questioning noise at her, and she leaned over and kissed him. His lips soothed her, and she was tempted to give in to the urge to snuggle up to him and stay in bed. Instead she smiled and went to go check on Visas.
Visas was still sleeping soundly. They had never gotten past Ludmilla to disturb her dreams. Ludmilla sighed in relief. She turned back to find Atton watching her curiously. She grinned at him, and led him down to the galley.
"I need a snack," she said suddenly. "Are there any cookies left?"
"Should be, unless Mira ate them all." Atton searched, and pulled out a container. "Here they are. Want some milk?"
"Sure, half a glass will do." Ludmilla pulled out a bottle of spirits and the chocolate syrup.
"You drink a lot."
Ludmilla smiled back at him. "I know." She popped a cookie into her mouth and started mixing herself a drink. "I also eat a lot. I burn a lot of energy."
"So… what was that about?"
Ludmilla sighed. "Kreia used me as a trap. When the Sith Lord tried to get to Visas, he got me instead."
Atton laughed. "Well, I bet he wasn't expecting that." He watched her wash down the rest of the cookies with her drink. "I should make some more cookies."
"You should," she agreed happily. "These are delicious." She smiled wickedly. "Almost as delicious as you."
Atton blushed. "I'll make some while you're running around on Onderon."
"You're not coming with me?"
"Do I have to? You'll end up in the palace. I hate palaces."
"You don't have to," she smiled gently. "I don't like palaces very much either. I'm always worried I'm going to break something."
Atton smiled at the thought of the Jedi Knight toppling over priceless statues by accident. Suddenly he thought of something. "Wait, you were raised with Mandalorians. Does that mean you have cybernetic implants? Is that why you're always hungry?"
"Finally figured that out, did you," she grinned. "Yes, I have battle implants just like any Mandalorian warrior. But since I'm also a Jedi, you can't see any scars. Gets very confusing, doesn't it?"
Atton nodded. "And do Jedi just decide when to stop aging? What makes them start again?"
"No, the Force decides for you. As you've no doubt noticed," she grinned.
"Great, so you're going to make fun of me for the rest of my life," he grumbled, thinking of how young he looked compared to her.
She kissed him before answering. "I certainly plan to."
Atton blinked, as he realized what she had just said. He smiled, and it was like watching the sun rise and fill the room with light.
"Will you two put some clothes on," snapped Kreia. "We are approaching Onderon."
"Already?" Atton sighed. "But she looks so good semi-naked."
Kreia glared at him, and Atton ran upstairs to get dressed, while Ludmilla laughed and finished her drink.
She gave Atton enough time to get dressed and reach the bridge before she went up to the room.
Kreia smiled at her. "You're learning."
Ludmilla blushed. "He's distracting."
"I can imagine," said Kreia dryly. "I think you're safe now. I can hear him fighting with Mira."
Ludmilla rolled her eyes, and went up to get dressed.
Mira stopped talking as soon as Ludmilla was in earshot.
Atton looked over his shoulder, and saw her walking up in her armor. "Thank you. Well, here we are at Onderon. There seems to be a line."
"An understatement if I ever heard one," muttered Bao-Dur. The space outside Onderon was packed with ships.
Kreia frowned. "Something is wrong here," she said softly. "There is a disturbance here, and on the planet below. Keep your eyes open, boy. There is danger here."
"Is this a blockade or what?" asked Mira. "What's going on with their spaceport? Is it just closed?"
Atton shrugged. "No clue. Oh hey, incoming message from a Colonel Tobin. Maybe this will clear it up."
"The Ebon Hawk. I was told to expect you," said the harsh voice. Ludmilla frowned, and Atton looked at the others in confusion. "Whatever you planned to do on Onderon, you will fail. Your journey stops here."
"How did they know who we were?" Bao-Dur asked quietly. "We changed the registry, and no one knew we were coming here."
"No," said Kreia. "Someone knew." She looked at Ludmilla, who was shaking her head. "Someone knew," Kreia repeated. "Whether they spoke deliberately or accidentally is not the point. The point is that we are going to be attacked very shortly."
"I'll take the turret," Ludmilla said sharply. "Bao-Dur, see to our defenses. Atton, Onderon has a jungle moon on the far side. Big, green ball, with no visible development."
"You want to land in an undeveloped jungle?"
"There are plenty of landing places," she assured him. "It's been used as a hiding place for centuries." She climbed up to the turret, and started picking off the fighters that had launched from the planet below.
Atton dodged and swung the Ebon Hawk, and the one of the fighters hit one of the other ships waiting to dock at Onderon. In seconds, a firefight broke out among all the ships hovering in the space above Onderon. Atton grinned and watched ships explode around them.
"What's so funny?" Mira demanded.
"If I have to explain, you wouldn't get the joke." One of the fighters managed to hit the Ebon Hawk before Ludmilla blasted it into space debris. "Uh oh. That's not good. I'm going to land now. I hope that's the right moon." Atton brought the ship down carefully. "Why isn't anyone ever glad to see us?" he asked himself. "Or at least, why can't they ever just say 'Hi,' or something, instead of always trying to kill us?"
Ludmilla jumped down from the turret. "Nice landing."
"Who cleared out all this space? There were a bunch of clearings big enough for a ship. Where are we?"
Ludmilla didn't answer, and headed to the garage to check on Bao-Dur.
Atton rolled his eyes. "I hate when she does that."
"Do you truly want an answer, boy?"
"Is it going to hurt me?"
"Most likely," smiled Kreia.
"Fine. Where are we?"
"We are on Dxun, where the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders struck their first blow against the Republic. There are many things buried here, or covered by the growth of the jungle."
"This is where the Mandalorian wars started?" asked Mira.
Kreia nodded.
"I need to check my weapons," said Mira. "I can't wait to check this place out!" Mira ran to her room to get her gear.
"She fought here once?"
"Fought. Such a simple word. She may wish to forget the battles she fought here, but there will be others who remember. And until she faces that part of her past, she will not be able to move forward. So we will not be leaving until she is ready, boy." Atton turned to look at Kreia, unable to resist her silent command. "The Force has led her here to find something. Until she finds it, whatever is wrong with the ship will not be repaired. Do I make myself clear?"
Atton nodded.