(no subject)

Atton hadn’t slept well - The beds in Onderon’s palace were altogether too soft, too pristine, not well-worn enough. He appreciated it, but the departure from the hard bunk in his cell, and the worn, slightly tough bed at Milliways was an altogether uncomfortable one.

He was up before sunrise, wandering along the many balconies, in the quiet time before dawn before the nobles awoke and he’d have to at least play at being a respectable Jedi. He hated that - The role of a Jedi was a stifling one.

He’d descended down into the depths of the palace as soon as the nobles had started to awaken, conversing with Bob, briefly. When he’d lost the use of his legs, Bob had lost any ability to feign sanity. He sat, head dropped down, silent save for quiet, incoherant murmurings in what Atton recognised as being Ancient Sith, but couldn’t understand.

When he was done, he departed the palace, silently, hood up, slipping past the bustling people without them ever noticing he was there, even if he did make no real attempt to hide.

He’d wandered around Iziz for a while, headed back to his shuttle and clambered in, grinning brightly. The shuttle had never been identified, never been put down as belonging to him - He had asked it especially of Talia, saying he didn’t want to draw too much attention to it.

Technically it was considered illegal to engage full engines while still in the docking bay. It would cause massive property damage.

Atton did it anyway.

That was probably a mistake. An even bigger mistake? Opening a channel to the Onderon Security.

“Yes, yes,” He called into the comm, putting on an obscure accent. “I am ... a pirate! Here to pillage your cities and your homes. Yaharr!”

As several security craft came after him, Atton grinned maniacally.

After all, he had to get his fun from somewhere.