Woman without a Country

"They're going to fire again!" shouted Canderous. "Get ready!"
"We can't take much more of this," said Mical grimly. "Bao-Dur, can you do anything with the door?"
"It's still stuck," Bao-Dur shook his head. "Visas? Anything?"
"It is beyond my ability to move."
"No time!" Canderous waved them back into cover. "They're charging – what the hell?"
Something – someone – landed in the very center of the assembled Sith forces, and a brilliantly silver-blue lightsaber flashed, shearing the heavy cannon in half before it could fire. Canderous couldn't hold back a wild cheer as she continued without pausing, cutting down Sith faster than anyone he'd ever seen.
"It's like seeing someone toss a zakkeg into a box of skwirrets," he grinned.
Mical glared at him. "Please don't compare her to a zakkeg."
Four of the Sith soldiers went flying before a shockwave of massive Force energy that crushed them against the wall beyond, and Canderous laughed. "Why the hell not?"
Mical shook his head, and ran up to help her, as did Visas and Bao-Dur. Mira and HK continued shooting, and Canderous staggered back to the small room, nursing his shattered arm.
Canderous grinned, and sank down next to Atton. He pulled the younger man into his lap, and used his good arm to hold him in place. Atton stirred slightly, still barely conscious as he was recovering from the Sith poison, and settled his head on the Mandalorian's shoulder. Canderous chuckled. "It'll be worth it to see the look on Mical's face."
Canderous rested against the wall, and listened to the sounds of combat. Atton was still resting on him, very still and quiet. He grinned at the noise of blaster fire, explosions, the distinctive hum and whine of lightsabers, until it was all over.
Someone raced down the hallway, and Canderous smiled as Ludmilla burst into the room.
"Atton!"
"Here's your toy," he grinned, "don't mind me, I'm a little beat up."
"Oh, Mical will be right here, he can fix your arm. That looks bad. What did you do?" she asked curiously, but didn't stop pulling Atton into her arms and cuddling him like a soft toy.
"I got hit by a rock," Canderous explained. "It kinda hurts."
Atton made a soft noise of surprise, and opened his eyes. "Ludmilla!"
She smiled joyfully at him, and kissed him. "Are you okay?"
Atton pulled away from the kiss, buried his face in her shoulder and didn't answer.
Mical was next to enter the room, and looked away from Atton without speaking. He knelt down and started pulling away the Mandalorian's armor.
Atton tightened his arms around her, but didn't speak or look up. Ludmilla frowned at Mical, who continued working on Canderous, using the skill that Kreia had taught him to heal the ugly wounds using the Force.
"So, we still have one Sith left to deal with," snapped Mira, but HK leveled his rifle at her before she could raise her weapons.
"Okay, seriously, no shooting allies," snapped Ludmilla, forgetting that the group had no idea why she was so irritated. "Put that down, now."
Mira reluctantly holstered her weapons, and HK calmly put up his rifle. "He's still a filthy Sith traitor," she hissed.
"What are you talking about?" asked Visas in confusion. "Who are you talking about?"
"Atton!"
"Stop right there," said Ludmilla firmly.
"No," said Atton miserably. "She's right, or at least, I can't prove that she's wrong." He made a half-hearted attempt to pull away from her, but Ludmilla wouldn't let go.
"Atton, stop being silly. What is this about?" He sank back into her arms, and she could feel the tenseness in his body, his heart racing.
Mical finished healing Canderous, and stood slowly. "I'm sure there's some explanation for all this."
"Explanation?" raged Mira. "He told the Sith we were coming! They all knew who he was. He set us up, and handed us over to them!" Mira glared at Atton. "I should have known better than to trust you."
"That's not quite what happened," said Mical mildly.
"Wait, does this have something to do with those stupid transmitters on the Ebon Hawk?"
Atton looked up at her in surprise. "The what?"
"There are transmitters somewhere on the Hawk. Bao-Dur and I have been tearing the ship apart trying to find them all."
Canderous laughed. "I knew you two were up to something."
"They've been there for a while," said Bao-Dur calmly. "We think we got all the ones inside, but we realized that some had to be on the hull. Haven't had a chance to search for those yet."
"That's how they knew who we were when we approached Onderon!" said Atton, still staring at her.
"That's right," said Mira reluctantly. "I remember, we were using one of Vogga's signatures at the time, but that Colonel knew the ship's real name."
"But – who put them there?" Atton continued to stare at Ludmilla, waiting for her judgment, nervous and scared.
Ludmilla sighed sadly. "Atris."
"What?" said Bao-Dur, rattled out of his usually impenetrable calm. "Atris?"
Ludmilla nodded. "She couldn't go and find the other Council members, they all think she's dead. So she tricked me into doing it." She shrugged. "I would have gone anyway."
Atton hid his face in her shoulder again, and clasped his arms tightly around her, trying to contain his wild rush of emotions, and Ludmilla continued to hold him to her.
"Atris is working with the Sith?" Bao-Dur asked in shock.
"Not exactly, there's some sort of power struggle going on. We need to get back to the Ebon Hawk, and we need to find all those transmitters before we take off again." She looked around at her crew. "Is everyone ready to go?"
"We can't open the door," said Visas.
"The door is held by some sort of Force seal," Mical explained. "The Dark Jedi opened it when we came in, but we can't get it to move."
"What happened to the Dark Jedi?" asked Ludmilla curiously.
"Atton cut him in half," grinned Canderous. "It was the most awesome assassination I've ever seen."
Mical looked sourly at the Mandalorian.
"What? We had front row seats and everything!"
Ludmilla snickered. "He won't understand, Mandalore. Come on, let's go take a look at the door." With her arm still around Atton, she led the way back down the hallway, stepping over the bodies and debris, supporting him as they walked.
"There was a butterfly," Atton whispered so that only she could hear. "I was going to listen to you, I really was."
"I know," she reassured him, and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "Sometimes, the Force pushes really hard." They reached the door, and Ludmilla realized that this was the same kind of seal that she had already seen on the first tomb. She gave Atton another quick kiss, then set him gently on a rock by the wall so that she could focus on the door, but still see him.
Mical leaned on the wall near Atton, but didn't speak to him.
Ludmilla activated the door, unlocking the seals that were holding it closed. The door slowly opened, and Mical whipped forward, his lightsaber out as fast as thought, blocking the blaster fire that erupted from the Sith on the outside. Ludmilla, trusting in her companions, continued raising the door.
Atton watched everyone run up to fight, defending Ludmilla as she concentrated on the door. He wanted to help, but his brain was still doing strange things. He stared as a beautiful butterfly with bright purple wings fluttered into the cave and settled on his hand. "You are welcome to take whatever you find here," he heard the ghostly voice whisper in his head, and he wasn't sure if it was real, or just a memory. He looked at Ludmilla again, then at the combat outside, seeing not the battle, but the only friends that he had ever known. Atton slid to his knees in an improvised meditation position, and began to focus.
"Hah!" Canderous shouted in joy. He had switched from his rifle to a pair of heavy battle axes. "I love it when he does that!" The Sith that he was fighting slipped, and Canderous split the Sith's head open.
Mical gritted his teeth, and put an end to the Sith that he was facing with a well-timed blow that landed perfectly. "You already have two women."
"Nah, I'm just borrowing Mira. Have to give her back later." Canderous dodged a Sith duelist, then took advantage of the failed attack to bury his axes in the Sith's back. "Besides, if you're not interested anymore – "
"I never said any such thing!" snapped Mical.
"Well, you're not acting – "
"We're supposed to be in the middle of a battle, you Mandalorian pervert! What do you expect me to do? Just drop what I'm doing and run over to give him a kiss, right in front of everyone?"
"Well, if I was dating someone as sensitive as Atton, yeah. I would."
"Fine!" Mical cut down his attacker, and much to Canderous' shock, ran back into the cave.
Ludmilla had finished opening the door, and was about to run into the fray, but stopped when she saw Mical, and watched him curiously.
Atton was deep in his trance, the air around him shining brightly with the manifest energy of the Force, carefully holding the butterfly in his hands.
Mical paused, considering, then carefully knelt down and kissed Atton softly on the lips. He meant to give him a quick kiss, and then pull away, but failed utterly, instead, leaving a rain of soft kisses all over Atton's lips. Mical finally pulled away, blushing brightly as he realized that Ludmilla was still watching him.
"I was going to suggest that you stay and guard him, but you're too easily distracted," Ludmilla grinned.
"Yes," said Mical weakly. "I'll get back to the fight now." Mical ran back outside.
"You know, I didn't think that would work," grinned Canderous. "What would happen if I suggest that you start making love to him?"
"Don't push it, Mandalorian."
Atton felt the pull of battle fade, leaving him empty and drained. He leaned back, almost falling, but felt himself being lifted by a pair of warm, strong arms, and he laid his head comfortably against Ludmilla's breasts with a happy sigh. He closed his eyes, but not before he saw the little butterfly flutter away.
Ludmilla kissed his lips, then settled him more comfortably in her arms. "I know, I'm spoiling you," she whispered softly while kissing him again, and felt Atton smile. "Let's get back to the ship."
"How unfair," whined Mira. "I have to walk, and the Sith brat gets to snuggle Ludmilla."
Atton stiffened, but suddenly realized that Mira didn't mean it, any more than she meant it when she called Visas horrible names.
"Mical, you carry Atton, and then Mira can snuggle Ludmilla," suggested Canderous.
"What?" squeaked Mira. "That’s not what I meant, you bantha!"
Canderous chuckled. "I know."
"Jerk," muttered Mira, but she didn't protest when the Mandalorian swung her up in his arms. She poked her tongue out at Visas, even though she knew she couldn't see her.
Bao-Dur pulled Visas to the other side of the path before she could do anything to Mira. "I think we're getting close to the ship," he said dryly. "Why don't you save it until we're there?"
Visas pouted, but didn't do anything else, and the group reached the Ebon Hawk again in safety.
T3 greeted them with wild excitement, and Goto raged at Ludmilla about Atton's behavior.
Ludmilla shook her head, and carried Atton to the room without answering. She laid him down in the nest of pillows. "I wonder where Kreia is," she mused, and Atton laughed before hiding under the sheets. "What?"
"She'll be awake in a little while," he said sweetly, his voice slightly muffled.
"Atton!"
Atton peeked out from underneath the blanket. "If they could sense her, they would have known where the Ebon Hawk was." Atton frowned. "I didn't know about the transmitters, though, so I guess it was totally pointless after all. Only they never found the ship. I'm confused." He pulled the blanket over his head and disappeared again.
"Atton. Do you have any more of whatever you used on Kreia?"
"Yeah," he said faintly.
"Hand it over. Now. All of it."
One slender, elegant hand emerged from beneath the blanket, holding two small vials.
Ludmilla took them away, shaking her head in exasperation, and Atton drew his hand back beneath the blanket. She looked at the vials curiously. "So, she was asleep the whole time. No wonder I couldn't sense her. Wait." Ludmilla frowned. "That's not right, she was… dammit. I hate my subconscious."
Atton peeked out from underneath the blanket again. "What?"
"Nothing." She stared at the vials again, and sighed. "Go to sleep. I'm going to find those damn transmitters and make sure there are no more left anywhere on the ship."
"I'm not tired," said Atton petulantly.
"I don't care, you're staying in bed and that's final."
"Oh. What if Mical shows up? Can I go play with Mical somewhere?"
"Somewhere?" Ludmilla asked. "What's wrong with staying here?"
"Nothing," said Atton vaguely. "I just want to show him something. If he shows up. It's not very far."
Ludmilla sighed. "Yes, you can leave, if Mical goes with you. Now stop acting like you're ten and get some rest."
Atton reached out his hand and carefully squeezed one of her breasts. "Honk."
"Atton!"
Atton began to laugh, and Ludmilla giggled as well, before she leaned over, and dove under the covers. There was some more giggling, and a few shocked gasps, before the soft sound of kisses quieted them both.
"I'll be back soon," Ludmilla promised as she slid out of the bed.
Atton listened to her leave, and smiled softly. He could still smell her perfume, feel her love on his lips, sense the warmth of her body on the sheets. He stretched, and settled himself into the space where she had been. He felt dizzy and strange, but it wasn't as bad as last time.
Atton lay still, and watched the world spin and dance before his eyes. He realized now that he was seeing the Force, moving between things that were and things that were not. When he used the Force to control the flow of battle, he had to open himself completely, to let the Force flow through him and use him to connect with those that he was trying to protect. His fear of the Force - his distrust of all things Jedi - that was what left him so weak afterwards, almost crippling him. He could do it for just Ludmilla, he trusted her. He couldn't help but trust her. But touching everyone else that way - it was a huge risk, and the resultant fear was worse than the nightmare, because this was real. Atton tossed impatiently, trying not to follow that terrifying line of thought.
"M'adouin? What are you doing under there?"
Atton sat up at the sound of Mical's voice, completely forgetting that he was covered by the blankets, and ended up in a tangled mess.
Mical laughed gently, and pulled the sheets away, setting him free. "Are you all right?" Mical sighed, as he felt Atton shaking slightly. "You're not, are you? What's wrong?"
Atton's eyes were unnaturally bright, and he knew he was breathing too fast. "I'm - I want to show you something. Can I show you?" He kicked off the blankets and got out of the bed, graceful as always, perhaps even more so. "Ludmilla said it was okay to leave."
Mical carefully took one of Atton's hands in his. "You're cold."
"It's fine," Atton insisted, and tried to pull his hand away, but Mical simply closed his hand over Atton's.
"Show me," said Mical gently.
Atton smiled nervously, and didn't trust himself to talk. Instead, he led Mical out of the ship, timing his movements perfectly so that they didn't run into anyone.
Mical followed him in silence, never letting go of Atton's hand as they climbed over the wall, Atton jumping lightly, with his usual quick grace, and Mical following him, slowly and deliberately. Mical started in surprise as Atton led him into the secret garden. It was perfectly concealed among the rocks, and completely unexpected. "How beautiful!" Mical looked around the half-wild garden. "I can sense something," he murmured.
"But you can't see anything, can you?" said Atton softly. He tried to pull his hand away again.
"Of course not," laughed the ghost. "It's too dark in here for shadows, and yet, not dark enough to be dangerous." The ghost looked at Atton with secret amusement. "Your friend is very handsome."
Mical blushed. "I can hear you, I just can't see you." He looked at Atton, and pulled him into his arms. "Oh, M'adouin, why are you so scared of me?"
"I'm not," Atton protested. "I - I'm scared of losing you. And Ludmilla. And all the others."
Mical sighed. "And because you were scared of losing us - me - you tried to drive us away. M'adouin! How foolish you are!" He tilted Atton's head up to his for a kiss, and gently touched his lips.
"You're angry," said Atton, trying to keep himself still.
Mical kissed him again before answering, and Atton threw his arms around Mical's shoulders, pulling him closer, holding on to him desperately. "M'adouin, how could you?" He kissed Atton again, holding the younger man captive in his arms. "I thought – I thought that I had lost you forever. Of course I'm angry! Don't ever do that to me again!"
Atton smiled, laughed nervously, but Mical kissed him before he could speak, again and again, leaving Atton breathless in his arms.
"Such wicked little things you do," Mical whispered, and kissed him again. "I know what you are, Atton, I don't care! No one does."
"But I'm - "
"No, M'adouin," Mical kissed him again before he could finish, "it doesn't matter. You're not evil, just - not very good. I don't know how to explain it properly."
The ghost laughed sweetly. "Just don't say grey. I always hated that color. I prefer purple, like you see at sunset."
Mical laughed. "Yes. Sunset. There is still light inside you, dearest Atton," he whispered, and kissed him again.
"That's a little much, isn't it?" grinned Atton sweetly, trying not to shake with relief.
"Then why are you smiling like that, M'adouin – dearest, sweetest, little Atton?" Mical laughed, and kissed him again, holding him closer still.
Atton blushed. "Overkill, Mical." He laughed with joy, proving the falseness of his words, and pressed himself against Mical, feeling the lines of his strength.
Mical kissed him again, holding him close. "Of course, M'adouin. Should I stop?" he whispered, kissing Atton yet again, completely unable to resist the lure of Atton's soft and perfectly curved lips, and gently drew Atton down with him to the soft and inviting bed of grass and wildflowers.
"Maybe," Atton smiled, and lay down on top of Mical, kissing him again and yet again. Atton smiled, a slightly dark and wicked smile, and straddled Mical's waist, suggestively poised so that only their clothes separated Mical's desire from Atton's body. "Is that all the apology I get?"
"Of course not," Mical assured him. "I haven't even started, M'adouin." Mical undid the buttons on Atton's shirt, started stripping his clothes away. "But, come to think of it, shouldn't you be apologizing to me? After all, you did hit me. Rather hard, too, I might add," Mical smiled.
Atton threw back his head and laughed, then leaned down to kiss him, opening Mical's shirt as he moved, letting Mical pull away his pants. "I did it to save you," Atton whispered with a smile, "and you were only stunned. I didn't hurt you." There was just the hint of a question in his voice, and Mical smiled at him.
"No, you didn't hurt me," Mical whispered, "but you were very cruel." He held Atton to him, kissing him wildly, as he pulled his robes away. "Very alluring, but cruel."
Atton smiled down at him, and let Mical's hands slowly guide him back. "Why are flames so irresistible when you know you're going to get burned?"
"You're less a flame, M'adouin, and more of a dangerous flower," murmured Mical, and Atton laughed in dark amusement, then gasped in pleasure as Mical slowly entered him. "Perhaps a kitten with very sharp claws?"
"Mical!"
Mical laughed, and held Atton's hips in place as he worked himself deeper into Atton's body, savoring every one of Atton's passionate cries. Atton braced himself on Mical's arms, trying to hold back the loudest cries, just as Mical was trying his hardest to make Atton scream. Mical won, as he always did.
Atton threw back his head, screaming as his body shook wildly, and he collapsed onto Mical's chest, and lay there, panting in Mical's arms. Mical sank back into the soft grass, holding Atton gently, tangled together in warm wetness.
"I can see how you didn't notice me, but how did you not notice the ghosts?" asked Ludmilla.
Both men half-sat up, startled, and stared at Ludmilla, who was grinning widely from her seat on the stone bench.
"Wait - you can see both of them?" asked Atton in surprise.
Mical stared at the ghostly form of a middle-aged Human male, tending towards stoutness, wearing the soft white robes of a Jedi, sitting next to Ludmilla on the bench.
The ghost that Mical could see smiled. "Some people see things more clearly than others," he suggested. His voice was deep and warm.
Ludmilla cocked her head at Atton in confusion. "Why, you can't?" She looked over at the other end of the bench, and Atton saw the younger ghost, who was clearly sitting in someone's invisible lap, shrug as if to say there was no real explanation.
"At any rate," said the deep voice of the older ghost, "it really is time that we were going."
"Oh, of course," said Ludmilla politely. "Were we keeping you?"
"In a manner of speaking," said the younger ghost, somewhat slyly.
"Okay, get your clothes back on, and let's go," commanded Ludmilla.
Atton went to her for a kiss first, then gathered his clothes, whereas Mical pulled himself together first, and then kissed her.
"We should have had one of those," whispered the younger ghost. "It looks like fun!" The other ghost shushed him, with a soft laugh.
"Well, it was nice meeting you," Ludmilla bowed politely to the ghosts.
"Goodbye," said Atton sweetly, and waved.
Mical bowed politely also, "Farewell!"
The ghosts bowed in return, and disappeared for the final time. The energy that had been sustaining the garden faded, and the beautiful flowers began to wither and die.
"Oh, how awful!" said Mical, gently touching a violet that was being scorched by the desert heat.
"They didn't really belong here," said Ludmilla softly. She looked around again, and frowned at a mark on the wall. She moved to investigate it, gently pushing aside some dying roses, and drew back in shock.
"What is it?" asked Atton curiously.
"Thorn got me," Ludmilla mumbled. She looked at the graffiti, not sure whether her mind was playing tricks on her again or not. She suspected that it was, because there was no other way there could have been a pair of beautifully drawn hearts, similar to some of the ones on wall of the Ebon Hawk, one reading "Patience and Carth, Always and Forever," and the other, "Revan and Canderous, Once and Never Again." And yet, it was something she should have thought to ask. After all, who else could have given him the Mask of the Mandalore? "Let's get back to the ship. There's nothing left here for us." She put one arm around each of her lovers, and walked away.