I'm good at shooting people, cracking wise, and pretending to know how to fight.

The kids kept asking to see him. Or at least two of them did. The ones Atton had pulled out of really bad situations to get them here.

And Atton was out of trips to be on for the time being.

So... he hid retreated to his quarters. He'd been there for two days now, meditating, bouncing things off the wall, smoking the last of the cigarettes he'd brought with him from Earth. Restless, or too restful, the desire to run competing with the desire to lay down and sleep for the next few months. Maybe longer.

By day three, he was attempting to meditate while standing upside down on his dinner table.

Yeah. This wasn't working.

[[ open ]]

A few days ago, Atton had been extremely pleased about Sparkle coming here.

A few days had kind of cooled that sentiment.

Admittedly that was mostly because he'd been hiding out in the Temple's spaceport and refusing to take Mical's calls, and Sparkle was arriving at a time not meant for regular people to be awake at. Atton, at least, deeply resented being awake.

And yet here he was, standing in a near-abandoned Coruscant Portalocity lounge, looking really, really annoyed and muttering something he didn't realize was the lyrics to 'Why Does It Always Rain On Me' to himself.

[[ for that guy, if he wants. ]]

The military had been on Atton's mind for a while: not really a surprise, considering the last couple of months and who'd been responsible for anything. His Netflix queue at home (and may Sparkle never bump into it) was full of war documentaries and war series-- the wars on Earth might have been different, but in some ways, war just didn't change. It was always the same.

Back home, the first real explorative pieces about the Mandalorian Wars were coming out. He'd been watching one of them, pointing out the inadequacies, quietly getting angry to himself, when he got the call. Had gotten up and gotten going. War on TV was one thing. War in real life-- the consequences? Yeah. That was different.( Cut for mentions of NPC injury. )

[[ can be open for phone calls, etc. ]]

Atton tossed the helmet down at the table. "You're joking," he said. "Mical, I missed out on hosting a class for this."

It earned him an aggrieved look for his trouble. Of course it did. Karking Mical-- "I said I wanted you to run backup on this mission," Mical said. "I never claimed that you would be sent out to deal with this organisation yourself--"

"You know I've wanted to go after these guys for over a year."

"And you know how I feel about your plans."

"I am not going to go tumbling over into the Dark Side just because I want to take these guys down more proactively--"

"You know how I feel." Mical frowned severely, but his jaw was set. "The answer remains no, Atton."

Atton pulled his hands away from the table. "Too bad," he said flatly. "It's not your call. We just like to pretend it is because you keep shouting and nobody wants to make you cry."

"... What is that supposed to mean?" Mical asked, staring at him. "Atton--"

"No, I'm done," Atton said. "These guys have now claimed five more solar systems, just in the past month alone. If we keep doing things your way, they're going to be ruling the galaxy by the next bank holiday!"

Mical rubbed his forehead. "I will put Mira on it," he said. "Now if you'll excuse me--"

"Yeah," Atton said, practically ripping the helmet back off the table. "You're excused."

He turned around. Marched right out the door.

Screw Mical.

[[ establishy. nfb, nfi. ]]

"I'm sorry. I haven't been able to find any data-entries on Carrick that don't predate the Jedi Civil War."

Atton sighed. "Well, that's nice and useful," he said. "No obituaries, either?"

"I'd like to think I would have heard about it," Mical said. His holoprojection flickered and wavered briefly. The further they got down into the bowels of this planet, the worse the connection got. "I can put out some feelers with my old Republic contacts."

"That'd be great." Atton's hand slid down to touch the second lightsaber at his hip. He was giving the two-lightsaber thing a real spin this time. If it worked for him, he was going to have to build a new 'saber to match his first. Which seemed like great busywork right now.

Mical gave a little bow and a murmured, "Good luck," then his projection flickered away.

The call for this op had come in sometime Sunday night, and frankly, Atton had been happy to bail for a while. Reunions weren't really his style to begin with. Plus there was the matter of Sparkle: he'd been doing as much research for his back-up plan as he could, sure, but the longer he stayed around Fandom, the more his anger at the whole situation turned into anger at Sparkle, and the more he rolled around in his anger at Sparkle, the closer to this-probably-isn't-healthy-for-a-Jedi levels his general attitude got. So. Out of there was good.

"Is it true what they say about the monsters on the lower levels, General?"

Atton let out a groan. "Don't--"

"Call," Thont filled in.

Atton shot her a foul look. "Me--"

"General," Farani finished.

"I hate you guys," Atton said. (He didn't. Somehow over the course of that mess a few weeks back, this particular squad had become his.)

"There are monsters in the undercity, though," Thont said, glancing at Parish. "Mom used to tell me about it. Millions of traders have been taking species in and out of Coruscant for thousands of years. Sometimes if you listen carefully, you can hear them chewing."

Farani made a loud chewing sound. "I hear there's Tookas," she said.

"Ugh," Atton said, pulling a face. "Tookas."

"Are we there yet?" Damar, who had been silent the whole time, looked up with a frown. "I've been counting the levels. We should be there--"

They heard nothing else the Devaronian said. The loading bay doors blew out the back of the ship with an enormous noise, screeching, and hit the back of the shaft-- before exploding. The ship shook hard, then it hit the ground with a loud smack and went spinning through the makeshift hangar. Chunks of durasteel flew past the loading bay opening, until suddenly the ship's nose struck the wall and the entire thing came to a shuddering stop.

Atton let go of the beam above his head. "We're here," he said casually. "C'mon, you idiots, look sharp."

[[ nfb, nfi! ]]

Atton still wasn't in any shape to be running missions, and he'd been sorely tempted to just stay on the island for the weekend - but it was a Saturday, and after what had happened the last time Sparks had gone to the island, he didn't really want to pin that on the kid. Not that he'd ever admit that was his reasoning, mind you.

So Saturday morning saw him pottering around the Temple gardens. It was nice here, peaceful. He could indulge that whole meditation thing he rarely admitted he did.

He'd sent Sparkle a message letting him know he figured the kid could find his own way now; he kept his senses idly extended to keep an eye on the kid. Eventually he settled down by the water and crossed his legs under him, letting his consciousness drift out entirely.

[[ for the kid! ]]

"Okay, so what was the big thing you couldn't do without m--"

He hadn't meant to stop talking mid-sentence, but it was hard not to, when you walked your usual walk into a usually-almost-empty Temple and found a whole bunch of military bigwigs staring back at you, Carth-karking-Onasi at the front. Atton's eyes darted to Mical, and then to Visas, who was standing to his right. "Is this an intervention?" he asked.

Mical startled. "No! What would make you think that?" he said. Atton was about to point out that it had been a joke, Mical, but the guy was already talking some more. "The Republic is planning an assault on the pirate base you helped unearth, but there has been a slight... hiccup."

"As you know, Senator Immoan was kidnapped several days ago," Onasi said.

You know what, that was actually news to Atton-- and the fact Onasi didn't know it would be news to him meant someone had been lying to him about Atton's whereabouts. He glanced to Mical again, but the man's face was an earnest blank. Yeah, bet the military brass bought that one, too: Mical, too earnestly Jedi to tell a lie. Well, Atton knew better-- but he also knew the benefits of subterfuge, so it wasn't like he'd ever put in much effort to disabuse anyone of the notion. (In fact, anyone who'd ever heard Atton complain about Mical would think the opposite.)

"We have reason to believe he's being held hostage within the base by some fringe ex-Sith elements who have infiltrated various piracy groups in the region," Onasi finished.

Atton rubbed his forehead. "And you want me to go in and get him out," he said.

"According to Jedi Mical, you're the most qualified," Onasi agreed. "We need this op to be completely quiet, or we'll risk the life of the senator."

"You're afraid there might be Force-sensitives among the ex-Sith," Atton realized. Fantastic. They needed him to be the can't-be-read guy. "Okay, fine. When do we leave?"

There were Mical's eyes on him again. "Wouldn't you like to hear the entire plan?" he asked.

Atton shrugged. "You can tell me on the way," he said. "I figure you people have been running your engines for long enough."

That earned him a nod from Onasi. "There's no time to waste," Onasi said. "After you break out the Senator, Jedi Marr and her Padawan will join you, followed by an elite unit of Republic soldiers. We'll take down the base and secure the ex-Sith." He crossed his arms. "Let's move."

As they walked towards the hangar, Mical pulled Atton aside quietly. "The location of this base is top secret," he said softly, "But if it is what I believe it is, there might well be a h--" He paused, as if realizing who he was talking to, "...important Jedi artifacts tucked away near the core. I'd prefer it if our Republic allies didn't hear about it, just in case we might tip off the Sith. But could you--?"

"Yay, Jedi artifacts," Atton muttered. "It's not like I still have bitemarks from the last set you had me hunting down, or anything."

"Is that a yes?"

"Would you ever stop bothering me if I said no?"

"Atton--"

"Yes."

Despite all that, it still felt good to be back on the job. It was funny how that worked. Onasi called for everyone to turn their comlinks off; Atton followed suit accordingly.

[[ nfb, nfi. iiii will be gone for Gamescom until Friday, atton will be incommunicado as a mission once again goes stupidly awry. everyone else is laying low. ]]

Atton gave the stick one more swing in the air to get some of the remaining tension out of his wrist. "Okay," he said idly, "You can take a break now."

Hey, Atton had started breaking a sweat. And while Sparkle wasn't the complete wet blanket he'd been months ago, he figured the guy was doing just a little worse.

"You know," Mira said, leaning against the doorway, "You could just give him a Bothan Stunner and be done with it instead of trying to play Captain Hardass all the time."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Stunner to the genitals isn't going to work on everybody, you know."

"Of course I know," she said idly, "But it's a start!"

[[ for sparks! ]]

Bright side: Atton had actually managed to get off the planet, and had subsequently even managed to catch a nap on the ship, which made him feel a lot better. Bad side: spending several hours tooling above an evil Sith artifact had not been good for him, and now he was trying desperately to remember the name of the blond guy he hated so much. It was something with an N, right?

It'd come back to him. Some things already had. The emptiness in his gut was shrinking again; it was just a matter of time and exposure now.

It was just a pain in the ass.

Anyway, Blond Guy With An N looked livid when he set the Hawk down by the Temple, but Atton had said he had an important meeting coming up (which he did) and he didn't have the time (which he didn't). At which point Blond Guy With An N had decided to invite himself along on the jaunt to go pick up, uh, what was it again? Glitter?

Damn it.

"You should not be doing this," Blond Guy told him again. "In fact, you should not have gone in the first place, but right now we should give you medical attention, perhaps some scans..."

"I'll be fine," Atton said, rolling his eyes as he pushed open the door to the Portalocity station. "It's temporary memory loss. It comes back, I know that, it's come back before. Just got to, you know--" He pulled a face, then snapped his fingers as Blond Guy let the door shut behind him. "--what's the phrase? Work itself out? No."

Blond Guy, Blond Guy, B-- Mical? Mical. Mical was right. Mical sighed. "I don't even know if you are dodging my questions or you genuinely don't remember," he said. "If there is a threat out there--"

"No threat," Atton said. "Well, there is a threat, not just from this planet. I don't know if the Sith seeded badness there just to get me killed, or they shot me down above the planet because they knew it would make things worse and I'd, you know, get my ass killed, but where I went, there's nothing left with two brain cells to rub together."

Mical rubbed at his forehead. "Can we again touch upon how utterly stupid this was and how you should be in medbay?"

"I can't spend every Saturday in medbay."

"No, but you are doing your utmost best."

And so it was an arguing set of Lost Jedi who waited in the Portalocity lounge, attracting some small amount of attention.

[[ for sparkle ]]

( Because this has apparently turned into KotOR Cameo Month. )

---

There was a white girl sitting in the waiting room of the Portalocity station, waiting quietly and with just a hint of disapproval. 'White', in this case, didn't refer to the color of her skin, but the color of her everything: she had a white hood pulled up over her white hair, a white robe over her white tunic which led into her white boots.

You could say much for Brianna, but at least she was easy to pick out in a crowd.

She was also distinctly unamused about having to do this, but unfortunately Mira was out on a mission, and Rand was an idiot.

[[ for sparkle, la. ]]