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Dec. 28th, 2006 10:03 pm"If it's easier to tell the truth, lie. And if it's easier to lie, tell the truth. Through this adversity, you will grow stronger, thus leading me to my final point - Whether it's easy to tell the truth or lie, ultimately, you should viciously mutilate the person and hang their body in front of their friends and family, grinning and swaying back and forth in the wind. The Dark Side reveals many alternative paths for dealing with your problems." - Jorak Uln, 101 Tips for the Environmentally Friendly Sith."
Atton prodded the pad at the side of the door again, checking his chronometer and tapping his foot.
“Coming, coming!” A voice came from inside, promptly followed by the door sliding open a little bit, and a pale violet face poking out.
“Yes?” The Twi’lek smiled.
“Sorry - This isn’t a bad time, is it? Or the wrong quarters?” Atton grinned nervously, wringing his hands. “I mean, I went to at least three wrong quarters on the way here - One of them had a very angry Gammorean.”
The Twi’lek laughed softly.
“Well, you tell me who you’re looking for and I’ll tell you if you’re at the right quarters.”
“Hm? Oh, right! I’m looking for Lyman-Kel Tae. I’m guessing he doesn’t live here, though, could you tell me where - ...”
“He does,” The Twi’lek cut in. “Not home right now, but he will be in a few minutes, in my expert opinion. Want to come in and wait for him? He won’t be - ...”
“No, no,” Atton took a hasty step back, waving a hand dismissively. “It can wait until sometime tomorrow, really.”
“Don’t be silly,” The Twi’lek reached forward, snatching Atton’s arm in a vicelike grip and dragging him through the door, slamming it closed behind him and steering him over to a chair. “And drop the whole frightened laigrek thing. He doesn’t bite, and neither do I.”
Atton blinked.
“I never said you did. Either of you.”
“You didn’t have to, you look like you’d rather run out into the blizzard than be here.”
“That obvious, huh?”
“Yeah, that obvious. Here, drink this, you’re white as a ghost.” She grabbed a mug of something steaming from an approaching droid, thrusting it into Atton’s hands. “I’m Shadra, by the way.”
“Lyman’s roommate?”
Brightly: “Lyman’s fiancee.”
Atton stopped before he could drink, raising an eyebrow, eyeing her closely.
“Really? I had no idea.”
“Evidently. Drink up,” Atton hesitated, before obediently taking a gulp out of the drink. Shadra nodded approvingly, leaning back. “So, what’re you here to see Lyman about?”
“Erm,” Atton paused momentarily. “Personal business.” He took another gulp of the drink as an excuse not to talk. Shadra’s eyes twinkled.
“You’ve been having an affair with him?”
Atton spat the drink out, choking and coughing, shaking his head vehemently.
“No, no, not that at all.” He got out between coughs. Shadra laughed, rubbing her hands slightly.
“Well, I won’t pry. I will ask why you have a lightsaber on you, though,” She gestured towards his belt. “Didn’t know Lyman knew any Jedi.”
The door hissed open.
“I don’t. This guy said he was a researcher,” Lyman frowned as he entered. “Mr. Rand - What can I do for you?”
For a moment, Atton considered just evading telling him, pretending he was chasing up an interview (maybe stealing some of their shinier belongings on the way out). Instead, he just waved numbly for a few seconds.
“... Yeah, that was a complete lie,” He said quickly. “And technically and legally, my name’s not strictly Atton Rand. Sorta.”
“We’ve done nothin’ to bother the Jedi.” Lyman scowled. Atton shook his head again.
“This isn’t Jedi business. Really.” Atton said quickly. “I sorta planned out how to say this without it being really awkward and then forgot it, so ... Yeah. Right. Well.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, lifted his face to look Lyman in the eye.
”My name’s Jaq. Randall-Jaq Tae.”
Other than a little more of a crease to his brow, and a twitch of a muscle in his jaw, Lyman didn’t react.
Atton remained silent, staring at him, biting his lip.
A moment passed. Then another. Then a minute, then two. Shadra’s eyes flicked between them.
“Well. I’ll leave you two to brood dramatically at each other in private.”
------
“You cheated.”
”What’s this about? Money?”
A burly Trandoshan leant one fist on the bar, peering at Atton.
“And I want my money back.
”I looked for you, you know. Knew you’d survived, knew you’d been evacuated, and what’d I find? Missing in action at Malachor V. You’re not who you say you are, because Jaq Tae? Very, very dead.”
Atton gathered up his pazaak cards, putting them back in his jacket and shrugging vaguely.
“Yep, I cheated from start to finish,” He shrugged.”And the money’s mine. Don’t get miffed just ‘cause you can’t play Pazaak to save your life.”
“Listen,” The Trandoshan growled, placing one hand on Atton’s shoulder. “I need that money if I want to get out of here in the next month, and if I don’t get off this hellhole and to Nar Shaddaa soon, Motta the Hutt’s going to have me for breakfast.”
“Then I guess you’re breakfast. Lucky you.” Atton replied flatly, shrugging off the hand on his shoulder. “Go bother someone else about it.”
”And y’know what? Even if you are who you say you are, and even if you have a perfectly rational explanation for changing your name, lying, vanishing for years, it doesn’t matter. You could’ve found me at any time - I, unlike you, was hardly making myself difficult to find. And yet, somehow? Y’never did.”
“Either you give us our money,” The Trandoshan puffed his chest out, raising himself to his full height. Behind him, the two Rodians accompanying him mimicked him. “Or we take it from you. Fair’s fair, right? You didn’t win it proper.”
Atton stood, scowling.
“I’m not in the mood for this. Give Motta my regards, okay? The money’s mine.”
The Trandoshan growled, reaching inside his coat, only to stop when the bartender shot a withering look in his direction. He pulled his hand away from his coat, giving Atton a long sneer.
“We’ll see you around, human,” He turned, beckoning. “C’mon, boys, let’s go.”
As they left, Atton sat down again, draining his drink.
“Keep them coming.”
”And what? You’ve just decided to turn up after how long? Fifteen, twenty years? What the kriff’ve you been doing?”
“I don’t think so,” The bartender shook her head. “You’ve had enough already.”
“I’m not even drunk yet.” Atton protested mildly.
“No, but you’ve been a right surly nerfherder to the last four people that tried to talk to you, and getting drunk won’t make you any friendlier, I’m betting.”
Atton shook his head, wandering out of the cantina and ignoring the bartender’s demands that he pay for his last drink.
”Get out. Get off the planet, preferably. I just don’t want to see you again.”
“Hey, you.”
Atton stopped abruptly, sighing softly as the Trandoshan over took him in the corridor, grabbing him by the shoulder, his other hand pulling a vibrodagger from his coat. The two Rodians hovered at Atton’s back silently.
“Ready to give me back my money?”
”I just don’t want to see you again.”
Atton prodded the pad at the side of the door again, checking his chronometer and tapping his foot.
“Coming, coming!” A voice came from inside, promptly followed by the door sliding open a little bit, and a pale violet face poking out.
“Yes?” The Twi’lek smiled.
“Sorry - This isn’t a bad time, is it? Or the wrong quarters?” Atton grinned nervously, wringing his hands. “I mean, I went to at least three wrong quarters on the way here - One of them had a very angry Gammorean.”
The Twi’lek laughed softly.
“Well, you tell me who you’re looking for and I’ll tell you if you’re at the right quarters.”
“Hm? Oh, right! I’m looking for Lyman-Kel Tae. I’m guessing he doesn’t live here, though, could you tell me where - ...”
“He does,” The Twi’lek cut in. “Not home right now, but he will be in a few minutes, in my expert opinion. Want to come in and wait for him? He won’t be - ...”
“No, no,” Atton took a hasty step back, waving a hand dismissively. “It can wait until sometime tomorrow, really.”
“Don’t be silly,” The Twi’lek reached forward, snatching Atton’s arm in a vicelike grip and dragging him through the door, slamming it closed behind him and steering him over to a chair. “And drop the whole frightened laigrek thing. He doesn’t bite, and neither do I.”
Atton blinked.
“I never said you did. Either of you.”
“You didn’t have to, you look like you’d rather run out into the blizzard than be here.”
“That obvious, huh?”
“Yeah, that obvious. Here, drink this, you’re white as a ghost.” She grabbed a mug of something steaming from an approaching droid, thrusting it into Atton’s hands. “I’m Shadra, by the way.”
“Lyman’s roommate?”
Brightly: “Lyman’s fiancee.”
Atton stopped before he could drink, raising an eyebrow, eyeing her closely.
“Really? I had no idea.”
“Evidently. Drink up,” Atton hesitated, before obediently taking a gulp out of the drink. Shadra nodded approvingly, leaning back. “So, what’re you here to see Lyman about?”
“Erm,” Atton paused momentarily. “Personal business.” He took another gulp of the drink as an excuse not to talk. Shadra’s eyes twinkled.
“You’ve been having an affair with him?”
Atton spat the drink out, choking and coughing, shaking his head vehemently.
“No, no, not that at all.” He got out between coughs. Shadra laughed, rubbing her hands slightly.
“Well, I won’t pry. I will ask why you have a lightsaber on you, though,” She gestured towards his belt. “Didn’t know Lyman knew any Jedi.”
The door hissed open.
“I don’t. This guy said he was a researcher,” Lyman frowned as he entered. “Mr. Rand - What can I do for you?”
For a moment, Atton considered just evading telling him, pretending he was chasing up an interview (maybe stealing some of their shinier belongings on the way out). Instead, he just waved numbly for a few seconds.
“... Yeah, that was a complete lie,” He said quickly. “And technically and legally, my name’s not strictly Atton Rand. Sorta.”
“We’ve done nothin’ to bother the Jedi.” Lyman scowled. Atton shook his head again.
“This isn’t Jedi business. Really.” Atton said quickly. “I sorta planned out how to say this without it being really awkward and then forgot it, so ... Yeah. Right. Well.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, lifted his face to look Lyman in the eye.
”My name’s Jaq. Randall-Jaq Tae.”
Other than a little more of a crease to his brow, and a twitch of a muscle in his jaw, Lyman didn’t react.
Atton remained silent, staring at him, biting his lip.
A moment passed. Then another. Then a minute, then two. Shadra’s eyes flicked between them.
“Well. I’ll leave you two to brood dramatically at each other in private.”
------
“You cheated.”
”What’s this about? Money?”
A burly Trandoshan leant one fist on the bar, peering at Atton.
“And I want my money back.
”I looked for you, you know. Knew you’d survived, knew you’d been evacuated, and what’d I find? Missing in action at Malachor V. You’re not who you say you are, because Jaq Tae? Very, very dead.”
Atton gathered up his pazaak cards, putting them back in his jacket and shrugging vaguely.
“Yep, I cheated from start to finish,” He shrugged.”And the money’s mine. Don’t get miffed just ‘cause you can’t play Pazaak to save your life.”
“Listen,” The Trandoshan growled, placing one hand on Atton’s shoulder. “I need that money if I want to get out of here in the next month, and if I don’t get off this hellhole and to Nar Shaddaa soon, Motta the Hutt’s going to have me for breakfast.”
“Then I guess you’re breakfast. Lucky you.” Atton replied flatly, shrugging off the hand on his shoulder. “Go bother someone else about it.”
”And y’know what? Even if you are who you say you are, and even if you have a perfectly rational explanation for changing your name, lying, vanishing for years, it doesn’t matter. You could’ve found me at any time - I, unlike you, was hardly making myself difficult to find. And yet, somehow? Y’never did.”
“Either you give us our money,” The Trandoshan puffed his chest out, raising himself to his full height. Behind him, the two Rodians accompanying him mimicked him. “Or we take it from you. Fair’s fair, right? You didn’t win it proper.”
Atton stood, scowling.
“I’m not in the mood for this. Give Motta my regards, okay? The money’s mine.”
The Trandoshan growled, reaching inside his coat, only to stop when the bartender shot a withering look in his direction. He pulled his hand away from his coat, giving Atton a long sneer.
“We’ll see you around, human,” He turned, beckoning. “C’mon, boys, let’s go.”
As they left, Atton sat down again, draining his drink.
“Keep them coming.”
”And what? You’ve just decided to turn up after how long? Fifteen, twenty years? What the kriff’ve you been doing?”
“I don’t think so,” The bartender shook her head. “You’ve had enough already.”
“I’m not even drunk yet.” Atton protested mildly.
“No, but you’ve been a right surly nerfherder to the last four people that tried to talk to you, and getting drunk won’t make you any friendlier, I’m betting.”
Atton shook his head, wandering out of the cantina and ignoring the bartender’s demands that he pay for his last drink.
”Get out. Get off the planet, preferably. I just don’t want to see you again.”
“Hey, you.”
Atton stopped abruptly, sighing softly as the Trandoshan over took him in the corridor, grabbing him by the shoulder, his other hand pulling a vibrodagger from his coat. The two Rodians hovered at Atton’s back silently.
“Ready to give me back my money?”
”I just don’t want to see you again.”
