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

"She's gone," Atton said flatly.

"Yes," Mical said. He winced a little. Mira's explanation of the situation had left something to be desired in terms of diplomacy - though he was unsure whether subtlety would have helped temper Atton's reaction.

"She was very insistent on the importance of her quest to find Revan," Visas said quietly. "And that she would have to go on alone."

Atton rubbed at his forehead. "She told me I could come along," he snapped. "And she took the Ebon Hawk? She barely knows how to fly that thing! And what about the Sith? There's bound to be a couple of stragglers out there and they'll be gunning for her--"

"Us, Atton," Mical said. "They'll be gunning for us. We are Jedi now, and--"

"I don't remember signing a piece of paper saying I pledge myself to the Jedi," Atton snarled. "I was in this to protect her, not keep this crazy runaway dark side-light side attack cruiser in the air!"

Mical's fingers inched closer to his forehead. "Atton," he said, "we may well be the last Force users trained in the Jedi arts anywhere in this galaxy. So it is of utmost importance that we go out and try to find and preserve as much Jedi knowledge as we can, and begin to rebuild--"

"You want to be a Jedi, and your first instinct is to start hoarding holocrons?" Atton said. "Actually, that is pretty typical. This galaxy just came out of three successive wars, over half the civilized planets are in ruins, but you wanna hang back and hole up in a library?"

"We are not equipped to--"

"I don't care," Atton snapped. "You wanna do something useful, you go to those planets and you find a way to look after those people. There's billions of them. There's plenty of places to start!"

"Atton--"

"Whatever," Atton said.

[[ woo. can be open to anyone who wants to call or who might still be here after yesterday. ]]

They had barely escaped Malachor V with their lives. The planet had already been unstable, but it had begun to implode as they left. It'd been a rocky ride -- a really rocky ride -- through the world's caverns and ravines up into the sky and away.

It was a testament to Atton's sheer stubbornness that he didn't pass out until the rocky part was over.

They found out later that the collapse of the planet was Bao-Dur's doing-- his last act, to undo the last echoes of his first one. There was a silence now in Meetra's head where once these echoes had lived. She was thankful for it. Malachor V had been harrowing, mentally as much, if not more so than physically. She needed the quiet.

They had come here to Manaan as soon as they'd been able. Atton was in a bad state - clinging on to life more tightly than he had been when she'd left him to face Kreia, but still flickering back and forth. He hadn't regained consciousness, either, and so when they got to Manaan, they transported him from the med bay to a health center nearby.

This was the planet the kolto came from. It was the best they could do for him. The best she could do.

Considering what she was about to do, she knew it wouldn't be enough.

Meetra looked up at him in that tank. It made him look fragile, partly because the fluid colored his skin an ugly pale white, but also because of the various wounds decorating his chest. He really had come close to losing that arm... but he hadn't quite gotten there, and thankfully, the flesh was starting to knit together again already.

She let out a sigh.

"So, might I ask where you will be going next?"

Mical had been there for some time already; Atton might have not thought fondly of him, but he had no issue with the man. It felt only right, considering, especially when not listening to his counsel had led to their rather embarrassing defeat at Kreia's hands.

"I need to find Bastila Shan," Meetra said quietly. "She might know where Revan is."

She'd told the others about her plans to leave. Atton... Atton wouldn't have taken it well even if he'd been in the best of states, and he hadn't exactly been that. And... she could admit here, in the privacy of her own head, to some cowardice about telling him in the first place. Where you go, no one you love can come with you.

Kreia had been right. Painfully so.

"Do me a favor," she said, and shot Mical a look. "When he comes out, tell him I'm sorry."

"This is goodbye, then," Mical said, after a moment.

"Yeah," she replied.

Then she turned around and walked out of his life. Just like that.

( And now, the Plot Index! Oh lord. )

[[ nfb, nfi, ooc-okay. oh god, i really am done. some plot details ganked from 'Revan' by Drew Karpyshyn, a novel I mostly like to ignore because it is TERRIBLE. ]]