The Temple, Sunday

It had been quiet for a few weeks. Training, interspersed with surveillance missions, followed by more training. Atton would've been glad for it, but being here made him ansty a lot of the time, and with the Sith still missing in action--

He was very, very antsy.

Even Mical had noticed, as evidenced by the few, awkward attempts the man had made at starting a conversation. (Ugh.) And... "Oh, here he comes again," Atton muttered, watching Mical stride across the large hall with worry in his eyes. "I'm fine!"

"Atton, I would like to avoid doing this again," Mical said, irritated. "Believe me, I would. But this is not about your intransigent habits, it is an emergency. I just received a distress call. It is Mira, she needs backup, and I would send Visas--"

"But I'm your best bet," Atton said flatly. "I get it, I get it. Give me five minutes to get my gear and to tell Sparkle what's up and I'll be on my way."

With that said, he hurried up the stairs to the dorm wing.

[[ open for SP ]]