Grrrr . . . Atton!

“I’m going to kill him,” I muttered storming toward the exit ramp of the Ebon Hawk. “He’s dead, unequivocally, for sure and certain, dead.”

“Beep, boop!”

I knew if I looked up rat, snake, or miscreant in the dictionary, I’d find a picture of Atton Rand. “So dead.” I hit the panel to lower the ramp with my fist. “Weasel.” This wasn’t the first time I had gone rounds with Atton. The man was a study in frustration. One minute he was a cocky, self-assured cover-his-ass blackguard then in the next he’d be . . . nice!

“Beep, boop!” It was a happy, chirping sound; the kind that turned your teeth on edge with its sweetness.

“T3,” I sighed tired of hearing the same two sounds from the astromech droid. I hadn’t paid much attention to T3 and his recent hiccups. He always had a bit of a quirky personality, so I didn’t think much about his occasional muttering. However, I began to become suspicious when I caught the little droid singing, yes singing, bar ditties about a farmer, his daughter, and a traveling salesman. When he referred to Mical in derogatory terms, I knew something wasn’t right, and now the droid, unless prompted, had been reduced to those two saccharine sounds.

“Beep, boop!”

I tried fixing him, for two hours, I tried to tone down the syrupy words and return T3 to his normal self. I was beginning to think Atton was right when he said he didn’t like droids because they broke in the head. Yet, when T3 began to spout the stellar attributes of said scoundrel, well it became clear he was the one that had reprogrammed the droid. “Broke in the head, my ass.”

“Beep, boop!”

Mira had only rolled her eyes and Kreia, well, when it came to Atton ‘fool’ was only the tip of her adjective pyramid. Mical, bless is steady heart, had tried to calm me down, but that only pissed me off more. Bao Dur could have fixed T3 in two shakes of a Gizka tail, but at this point, it was becoming a ‘principle’ thing and I’d be dammed if I’d let it go.

“Atton Rand,” I shouted into the dense jungle on Dxun. It had stopped raining, thank the Force, and the evening air was quite pleasant, warm, and balmy. I hope a Maalraas bites him on the butt. “You bloody scoundrel, where are you?”

“Over here, babe.”

It’s a wonder I have any teeth left, I thought as my back molars ground together. I had commanded armies, waded through oceans of blood and gore – some of it right here on this moon – and managed to mourn the loss and somewhat set it aside. So why was one slightly over six-foot guy with sable brown hair and eyes driving me crazy?

“Beep, boop!”

“Rissa,” his brows waggled, “want to join me?” He grinned wickedly as I reached the edge of the pond.

“No. Fix T3.” I ignored the teasing sparkle in his dark eyes and the fact that he was probably naked as he paddled around in the small pond near the ship.

“Beep, boop!”

“Little trash compactor seems fine to me,” he said sparing the droid a brief glance.

“T3?”

[If a man says something in the woods and no woman hears him, is he still wrong?]

My eyes narrowed as I watched Atton’s full lips roll in on themselves to keep from smiling. “Fix him you . . . scalawag!”

“Beep, boop!”

My fists slammed to my hips. “I spent the last two hours trying to undo whatever it is you did to him.” His mocking frown of hurt made me growl low in my throat and my teeth grind a little more.

“How do you know it was me?”

I reached further than I ever had for patience. “Information on Mical.”

[The Disciple. Medically trained, bootlicking, Jedi wannabe, pansy.]

At least he had the grace to keep his chuckle behind his teeth. “Information on Atton Rand.”

[Exemplary specimen of a human male. Clever, charming, well-built, expert pilot . . .] I snorted. He frowned. [ . . .Faithful Jedi apprentice. Considerate lover.]

“You forgot conceited ass, you weasel!”

“Beep, boop!”

Atton didn’t bother to hide his grin this time as he sank in the water to his chin, reminding me of an alligator as it silently stalked his prey on the shore.

“Fix him!”

[There once was a Hutt from Nal Tukit whose . . .]

“T3!” Scowling, I turned to the little droid. The bad jokes and ribald bar ditties were one thing, but I had to draw the line at raunchy limericks.

“Beep, boop!”

“Okay, so I gave him some personality.”

“He had a perfectly good personality,” I snapped as I paced the shoreline. “Fix him.”

“Now?” He asked still to his chin in the water. Only his eyes watched me march back and forth.

“Right now.”

“All right.”

His quick assent should have warned me he was up to something. Almost too late, I glanced over to find the water shedding from his lean hips. Very naked lean hips. My hand shot up and I squealed, actually squealed like a little girl as I used the Force to push him back.

He came up sputtering then began laughing, its rich masculine sound echoing off the cliffs. “Would you lighten up?”

I never gave much credence to the whole out-of-body experience people talked about, but I was beginning to believe in it now. It was the only explanation as I watched myself in horror, lean forward as Atton swam to the grassy shore.

“I can’t!” Ashamed my voice wasn’t steady with the admission I turned my back to him, drawing in a shaky breath. Where the hell did that come from? Just because the Sith were half-a-step behind us, and we were running from one side of the galaxy to the other searching for hidden Jedi masters, didn’t mean I should admit to my biggest fear in front of a man that tested my sanity.

“Babe . . .”

“Please don’t call me that.” There was so much resignation in my voice the only thing I could do was rub my eyes in hopes of hiding my embarrassment at my outburst.

“Rissa,” the concern in his voice only made me feel worse. “Come sit down. No tricks, I promise.”

This is what drove me crazy. He’d do something asinine like reprogram T3, act like it was no big deal, compound the problem by being outrageous, then when he touched that thin line he was all nice and concerned. Agh! I didn’t need this right now.

“Beep, boop!”

Resigned to the fact I put my foot in it, I turned to find Atton, his back to me as he toweled off and pulled on his pants. Okay, maybe exemplary male specimen wasn’t such a stretch after all. He looked at me, patted the rock he stood by, and then pulled on his shirt. Sitting, I buried my face in my hands. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“No you’re not.”

No, I wasn’t. “It’s just . . .”

“Just what,” he asked with a quick rub of my back.

When I stiffened, I heard his sigh as the warmth of his comforting touch faded. “Atton, I know why you did this,” I waved at T3. His “Beep, boop!” was still nauseatingly cheerful. “And any other time I would probably be trying to outdo him.”

“But?”

I shook my head, unable to control the thoughts fighting for attention in my mind. “It’s been years since I had to think of anyone but myself. Now I’m responsible for you and the others plus two droids.”

“What about the fat one?”

“Goto?” I rolled my eyes. “The point is all your lives are mine.” I sat back and watched the water tumble over the cliff. The moonlight sparkled in the rising mist at the base of the falls. I had gone this far, maybe admitting the rest would help. “I’m not sure if I’m equipped to handle this,” I told him. I hadn’t asked for this. When I surrendered my saber, a part of me was glad I only had to be responsible for myself.

Being a Jedi had been my life, it was what I was from the time they plucked me from the orphanage. When the council exiled me, I set all the trappings and training aside. I had no need for them since I couldn’t feel or use the Force. Then all of a sudden I wake up on Peragus and it’s back. I had grown accustomed to skirting the edge of what was legal and now I’m expected to pick up where I left off? I’m expected to . . . I heaved a sigh.

“I’m not sure I’m prepared to train any of you properly in the Force, despite Kreia’s assistance.” Atton stiffened beside me so I held up my hand to stall him before I went on. “If I screw up, it’s not only your lives but, potentially, thousands of others.”

“So that means you can’t take a few minutes to laugh? Hear some bad jokes or play Pazaak? Blow off some steam.”

“Atton,” I sighed knowing he was right, but it didn’t change the fact that I was scared I would fail them.

“Look, we all get the whole fate-of-the-galaxy thing, okay? That witch never fails to remind us. Maybe that’s why I . . . tweaked the little trash compactor.” He shrugged. “Comic relief.”

[What is the difference between a dog and a fox? About five drinks.]

“Pa-dum-dum,” I chuckled with a ghost of a smile. “Just fix him.”

“All right. Rissa,” he took my hand. “You’re not alone,” he added in a quiet tone.

Maybe I was tired, maybe my self-imposed solitude became too much, but something shimmered along my skin with the soft breeze. He was still a scoundrel with a smart mouth but Atton was looking less and less like a weasel. “Fix T3. Please. And you need to apologize to Mical.”

Atton snorted. “I said I’d stand by you, not surrender my dignity.”

“What is it with you two?” Sighing as I asked, I stood up. I knew exactly what was going on. Ever since we picked up Mical on Dantooine, Atton’s casual charm had taken on an edge. Even knowing our past relationship, how Mical might have become my padawan, hadn’t changed the latent jealously in Atton’s insults.

“Just a friendly game of high stakes Pazaak.”

With me as the prize? I wasn’t entirely certain if I was flattered or disgusted. I should throw them both over for Bao Dur. That would show the little varmint. But I couldn’t do that. Not only was it unfair to Bao, Atton was smart, he’d see right through the ploy. Besides, I reluctantly admitted, I’d die a miserable death before I ever admitted I was rooting for him.

Feeling much better, I turned to find him kneeling in front of T3. My heart did a long, slow roll in my chest. “Atton?” When he turned his head, I gave him my best sex-me smile and saw his eyes warm. “There were two muffins sitting in an oven. The first muffin looked at the second muffin and said, ''Man, it's getting hot in here!'' Then the second muffin looked at the first muffin.

''By the Force! A talking muffin!''

"Beep, boop!"