Every time ~cranjery mentions my oft neglected RW campaign, I end up writing one. I'm not particularly pleased with it, but only because it goes nowhere. It's just a moment. So, here you are. An Atton, Zana...Kavar moment on Iziz: the meeting in the cantina. [Not particularly canon..."canon? what's that?"]

NOTE (added @1:13am 5-2-08): My italics got lost before; they're fixed now. And this is your reminder that RW's are unedited and unplanned. They are just random, literally, usually taken from a piece of dialog or an image that flits through my mind and I just start typing. As such, they may be disjointed or confusing. You get what you put into it, and these usually take me 5-10 minutes total. That said, some of them made it into the main For the Republic fic, and some, like this one, address in-game stuff that will never come up in a real fic. It gives me a chance to explore my characters, push my boundaries, and annoy you with really random stuff. ^_^ In case it's been so long that you guys didn't remember, haha. <------- Lene has a headache and really isn't making much sense. She apologizes, but her brain is trying to crawl out of her skull and she really must go and lie down now, so this weird, long disclaimer-type paragraph stays.

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When Loren's letters ceased, Zana hadn't been upset. The letters were relics from a different life, and he had been in love with a different person.

She was...just an exile.

Still, years later, her heart leapt when a heavy, unnatural shadow cut across the doorway of the shabby Iziz cantina, blotting out the hazy light filtering in from the entry way and the sounds of the pazaak tables beyond. It was accompanied by a faint, familiar aura that wrapped around her like a cloak--comfortable and warm. She'd always imagined it molded perfectly to her and no one else.

His eyes found her back in the dark and she sat very still, sipping juice and staring down at the table. Every fiber of her being screamed, "Look at him! Acknowledge him! Love him! Remind him!"

Just as vehemently, she screamed back, No!.

Beneath the table, calloused fingers worked their way between her own and Atton whispered, "It's okay." When she didn't acknowledge his words, he took back his hand and sighed.

Kavar arrived at their table in the quick step of a noble, chest out, head high, but he wore his Jedi robes, hiding his face with the hood. The contrast was at odds with expectation, but he didn't seem to care.

Dropping into the empty seat across from Zana, never making eye contact, he began to speak. Instead of focusing on his words now that she had found him, she caught herself wondering if his eyes were really as bright blue as she remembered; if his smile was still enough to send her heart beating rapidly up into her throat as she stammered for something to say. Was his skin darker, tanned by the sun of Onderon? Did he...Did he miss me...?

Their back-and-forth, give-and-take dialog circumscribed the real reasons for Zana's visit: the trial and exile, cutting her from the Force. His presence before her, just within reach, calmed the urgent need to know. It didn't matter--Loren was with her. When she was young, Zana had told Serena that her master could do anything. She wondered if it was true.

And yet, though he was so close, she didn't reach out.

She was just an exile. She didn't have any right. They were separated by the width of a small table in a dingy cantina, but the silence of years hung between them, a gulf far wider to cross.

The conversation turned, punctuated by Atton's pointed questions that quickly demonstrated what he thought of the Council's pronouncement, the Council, themselves...Kavar, specifically. Zana blushed. The scoundrel could read her so well.

Mid-sentence, Atton stopped, a confused look passing over olive features before he grabbed Zana, slamming her to the ground. Laser blasts passed overhead, too close for comfort, and then he rolled them away, coming up a few feet away from the table. Kavar seemed to have moved, as well. His lightsaber illuminated the low ceiling of the cantina and the huddled group of patrons who were backing away cautiously.

When Vaklu's men resumed shooting, Zana found herself separated from Atton, her back to Kavar, his heartbeat pounding into the space between her shoulder blades. His rich voice found her ear, a muttered order from the only man alive who could still expect her to follow his command. "They're Vaklu's men. Get your pilot and get out. I'll find a way to contact you when arrangements have been made. Now, go!" The last he yelled, surging in amidst the soldiers, the light of his saber lost as Atton yanked her hand and pulled her through a side door and out into the sunny streets of Iziz.

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For the record, she and Atton aren't romantically involved. I doubt Zana has even vaguely thought of seeing him in that light yet. But they are friends, and she's training him (and Mical, etc.).

 

 

---WORKS IN PROGRESS-------------------------------

List got too long; this is the condensed version.

FtR: one-shots and 22 in editing
For others: I owe a few people...
Naruto: Writing "Only Silence" series and Megan's biker fic
Art: "Milo Ventimiglia as Atton" <-- I know, shocked!

---MY OTHER WRITING/ART STUFF------------------------------

@ KFM as Verna Jast
@ FanFiction.net
@ LJ (slash/yaoi only)
@ Flickr
~objectivegray (my actual art/photography account )