Malicious Intent

Atia sat up, the top half of her head caked in blood. Her eyelids fluttered open, the slight pink glow of her new irises was barely visible, even in the dimly lit halls of the industrial facility. So this was what it was like to have normal vision. Such a vast array of colors. Much better than the half complete spectrum of only a couple colors. She played with the neural implant, mentally switching between her old vision and new vision. She had designed the new vision to see in the dark. No reason not to get better than average sight. Someone else was here. Something vicious. Something brutal. Something beautiful. It was a short walk, but when she came upon Mittsu, she stopped dead in her tracks. Not only was his presence in the force admirable, but he was physically huge. "They're building them bigger and bigger, aren't they?"

When her destruction was designed, she sent the datapad three levels below for the grunts to build. As she turned to stretch her legs she felt the presence at at the door before the buzzer rang. "Enter" A short, horribly disfigured half machine man stood at the threshold. "Lord, we have finished your first task." "Then let's get started then." The short man-machine gave a crooked grin and nodded. This was one of the very few times he got to cut up a Sith without repercussions. She was lead two floors down to an oddly sterile looking room. In the room was a body length table, two small planks extending perpendicular from it. She laid down on the table, two men looking similar to the first strapping her wrist to the table. "She turned to one of them. Don't put me under." "We will administer half the anesthetic for th..." "No" She cut him off. " Don't put me under. At all."

A lone shuttle touched down in the hanger. Dominique had made a point. Cybernetics would be required should she start to go into combat regularly. Mechis III was the logical conclusion. Long Atia had considered getting some form of cybernetics in her eyes. At the time it was merely a cosmetic decision, to avoid the social stigma her milky white orbs had brought with them. Now there were other reasons. Artus had shown her the existence of something she had never come across. She wasn't sure exactly what it was, but something on that planet had taken the force from her, also leaving her blind. She had never felt as helpless as she did in those few moments. Cybernetic eyes would ensure that while the force could still be stripped from her, she would not be further crippled with the lack of vision. She exited the ship and took up an empty room. Few would stop her, and when they did, they were quickly sent away. She spent some time in the refresher before making her way to the labs. The first thing was the eyes. She had always wanted a pair of ocular orbs that looked legitimate. However the orbs wouldn't get the job done. She needed an intricate neural implant for them to work. She started working on the terminal. Designing the eyes and implant took several hours. Had she better knowledge of the process it would have taken less time. Her natural affinity for technology was the sole thing that kept the process from being horrible screwed up. She sent the order in to the random drones three levels below to do the actual construction. There was still more work to be done. Next was a weapon. Several ideas came and were thrown away before she settled on one. She had the quick, elegant destructive power of her lightsaber. What she needed was mass destruction. She settled bent back toward the terminal and started another project.

Atia only nodded and walked back to her shuttle. There would be no assistance here. She would have to look elsewhere for aid.

"Thank you Master, for your confidence." The promotion was indeed deserved, but other's admission of her skills was far from her mind at the moment. "What is it that you wish me to do next? Obviously we must move on Black Sun before they regroup. Any idea where they would have fled to?"

Atia could feel her old master's eyes look her over before speaking. She was bloodied and bruised. The exposed wound on her ribs had just been cauterized and the bullet freshly removed before that. She looked a mess. Now was not the time for trivial thoughts of appearance. "Master Dominique, I have returned from Artus. We were met with more resistance than anticipated, however Lord Torin followed through with your orders and decapitated his mark. I also fought and defeated a few agents myself, along with one in particular that seemed to have some rank. When I sensed them planting the explosives I mentioned we should leave. It was then I was surrounded by Destroyer Droids and a hunter with a strong presence. Lord Torin took care of the droids and ordered me to take this to you." She outstretched her hand to give the small parcel to Dominique. "Master, I must find him. I cannot leave him behind." Her mind lingered on memories of Viktor for a moment before returning to the subject at hand. She hoped Dominique hadn't been observing her thoughts for those precious seconds. "I request another battalion of troops and two accompanying lords. I do not presume an apprentice such as myself could command such a force, but I believe we cannot afford Lord Torin's skills to be lost from our order. Especially as our war grows."

A lone shuttle docked. Atia waisted no time lingering with docking protocol. Straight to the bridge. Straight to her. A small turbolift ride and a long, wide hallway later she was upon her destination. "Where is master Dominique? I need to talk to her. Now"

Atia caught the chip and stood momentarily, watching her master get ravaged by current after current of electricity. She had to stop herself from lunging after his assailant, but she had been given an order. This was more important than her needs. Something about this seemed horrible. You're just going to leave him behind? After he saved you? She looked into Torin's eyes. Seeing the pain and defeat of captivity within. He had taken her fate. It wasn't fair. It's just like before. Remember his face then? Lying lifeless on the floor? You did the same thing then. Shear, unadulterated self loathing found her way to Atia. What she was doing, what she had to do, was frankly despicable. The thought of Torin beaten and broken in a force cage wouldn't leave her mind. She turned to walk away. Before she walked up the ramp, she stopped. Quietly she whispered. Partially to herself, but mostly sending a force message to Torin. "I'll not leave you to become a prisoner." Her mind stretched out to the fallen bodies of the stormtroopers surrounding Torin and Piccolo. Hidden tendrils only those gifted with force sight would see outstretched from her, making their way to the grenades resting on the dead. Roughly a dozen grenades surrounding the two were armed. An array of beeps sounded off in unison as she boarded the ship. If she had to leave him, it wouldn't be for the sadistic pleasure of others. She left the system without looking back.

((Fun duel. Hope we can do it again sometime.)) "Shhhhh..." Delta froze. Atia's crimson blade slid between them and through his torso, entering at the solar plexus and exiting to the right of his spine. Her left arm reached up and took his head, easing it down as the body slumped. She turned off the lightsaber instead of withdrawing it, trying not to damage the body any more than it already was. He had respected her to a degree and that was worth leaving something to bury. She kissed his exposed forehead and closed his eyes. Back to business. She turned to look at Torin, equally victorious. Before she spoke, her darker half spoke up. Move "Master, we need to get out. Now."

Beautifully gory pieces flew through the air, bringing Delta with them. She stood perfectly still, her protective force bubble deflecting the shrapnel from her fragile frame. Only when that ominous voice in her head told her to move did she comply. She had finally given up arguing with the voice. It had proven to only be concerned with her best interest. And only in the nick of time, it would appear. Delta now held what looked to be some old projectile. What kind, she couldn't tell from this distance. Only when the clack-clack-clack of the gun firing rang in her ears did she figure out the gun. That's an MP5. I know. Looks like he's in full auto. I can see that. It only has a thirty shot capacity with an automatic firing rate of eight hundred rounds a minute. He can't fire for long. She began strafing to the right as he started unloading the banana clip in her general direction. The arrogance of the man. Thinking mere bullets could down a Sith. How little he thought of her. His apparent lack of confidence in her set her mind aflame. Anger, her favorite of catalysts, now began gaining more momentum within her, bringing power and focus to her tool. Dark thoughts threatened to take over as she attempted to dodge the slugs. She ran faster than normal, making obscene distance in short time. However it wasn't fast enough. Two bullets managed to find her left side, forcing their way through her flesh to finally come to rest amidst her ribs. Her movement faltered for a moment as her body stumbled from the new stimuli. They would bleed out. Slug wounds always did; this wasn't her first. She had about a half hour before the blood loss would get to her. Gotta end this quick. Her left hand found her vibro dagger strapped to the left side of her belt, grazing the bullet wounds along the way. Every ounce of pure hatred enveloped in her arm as it cracked like a whip towards her flying opponent. With a roar, she threw the blade as hard as her force enriched arm was physically capable of doing. The dagger flew through the air, guided by pain and anger, weaving between the bullets. It finally came to rest where Delta's right leg connected with the hip, neglected by plates of armor. She continued running to the right, narrowly avoiding the spray and pray chasing her. A meter from the wall, she lept, kicking of the wall, ricocheting back towards Delta. She met him in mid air. Again, she enveloped her right hand in horrendously dark energies. With her lightsaber still in hand acting as a fist pack, she twisted her whole torso in mid air and punched him in the exposed left temple. ((3))

Darkness. Numbness. These were sensations Atia had never felt before. Her first reaction was that of panic, the total lack of control unsettling. Her breathing quickened and the pain in her forehead less fueling without the force. Her right arm struggled to free herself from the grasp, only to find her thumb stuck under the thick glove of Delta's index finger. Her torso twisted to free herself in vain, her stomach reminding her of his unforeseen blow. She cursed herself for being so careless and pushed her mind to think of a way out. It would appear he truly did want to fight her hand to hand, but on his terms. To hell with that. If she's going to fight, she's going to decide how she's going to do it. The blaster remained in her left hand. Her mind started thinking malicious thoughts. The idea of bringing pain to the man with his own weapon delighted her. She knew he was looking at her face to face now. From the direction of his voice, he was a couple inches taller than her. He was mere feet from him. Her left hand flipped the blaster around, the handle now catching in the palm of her hand. Her finger squeezed furiously, laying down blaster bolts in a random spray. She could hear Delta taking steps back for cover, giving herself time to back out of what would be her death bubble. Without the force she was incapacitated more than most. She continue stepping backward until she stumbled. Vision flooded back. Shades of every color filled her mind as things started coming back into focus. The comforting warmth of the force eased her panic. Now she was back. Now she could see her prey. She dropped his blaster and looked right at him. The very sight of him pissed her off. "You say you want a fair fight while you pull me away from my tool the force and even my vision? How exactly would that be fair?" She looked down to see what she stumbled on. Half a stormtrooper lay at her feet. She chuckled to herself, sending dark tendrils to envelop the half of a man. "You want to play? You seem to have already laid down the ground rules." Her index finger of her left hand twitched, as if pushing something. The safety buttons on the two frag grenades on the stormtrooper's utility belt depressed and gave a beep of acknowledgment. Grenades activated, she turned her wrist to point at Delta, sending the armed body directly at the man. She raised her lightsaber, expecting a spray of blaster bolts to come her way sometime before or after the explosion. ((2))

((Sorry for the length of time. Let mortal combat begin.)) The blood of the stormtrooper bathed Atia in a sweet crimson mist, the taste and smell now reaching her senses. Battle was finally starting. No more mowing down irrelevant cannon fodder. Now was a challenger she could enjoy fighting. "Sithy?" Her senses flared as she drew the force to envelop her, pushing her body for the kill. The standard shroud of dark energies surrounded her as she was accustomed to doing before major combat, giving her some form of protection from the more dire of attacks. She jumped over a small mound of bodies, rushing at her new opponent. In her charge, a stormtrooper had strayed into her path. A quick wave of her hand sent him flying sideways, removing the annoying intrusion. When she was finally upon him, the rich crimson of her lightsaber reflected off of Delta's helmet in a sickeningly ominous glow. He was holding a blaster. Such a silly weapon to bring to a sword fight, but it could be annoying if she didn't watch it. Her first swing came lower left to upper right, making the human think quick on his feet. His torso leaned back, away from the blow. As soon as her saber finished it's arch, Atia reached out with her left hand, deep purple tendrils of the force stretching out to grab Delta's right arm. She pulled back, bringing the off balanced man with her. As he came close, her left hand grabbed his right wrist to finish pulling him in. Her anger rose as she thought about what she was about to do, knowing how little it would probably do initially. Her head swung forward, connecting with the visor in his helmet. A wicked crunch could be heard, both from the cracking glass of his visor and the cutting of her skin. A terribly soothing pain flowed through her head. She welcomed it, embraced it, hated it. The force of the blow threw Delta's body back, while she remained holding his right wrist. A flick of her left wrist twisted his arm. She let her arm slide down to the barrel of the blaster and withdrew it from his overly strained hand. "You won't be needing this." There was a small look of satisfaction on her blood soaked face. Hopefully he would fight her face to face instead of resorting to ranged combat again. Guns just took all the fun out of it. ((1))

The fresh tingle of new pain reminded Atia she was still talking to her master, and not one to taunt. The taste of blood found her senses. Her cheek was cut inside. Every inch of her wanted to reach out an cut him, but she restrained herself. Though she hated to admit it, what good was unbridled power? Leaving it unchecked would only result in wanton destruction. Though fun, not always desirable. So he had been assaulting her mind, not just insulting her out of the blue. And somehow she had constructed a weak barrier against it. Think. What had you been doing during that little argument? Being pissed off, that's what. No, idiot. Not what you were feeling. What were those feelings doing? Her mind replayed the incident with remarkable speed, taking note of insurmountable information in such a short period. I could see something in him. Nothing on his face gave him away, but there was something in him. His mind was on something other than verbal assault. Closer, but your still missing the mark. Go deeper Was it something I was doing? I was merely thinking about how pissed off I was. The separate voice of her consciousness seemed to sigh. My god you are stupid. And thinking about how pissed off you were gave your mind something to do other than listening to his commands. When you let one thought consume you, like your anger, it closes the door to others trying to get in. You just need to focus on that. You can even be as blunt as just matching his will in refusing to let him in. But how am I supposed to know that someone is attempting to assault my mind? Simple. Hold tight that wall all the time. Never let it down. With it up you are matching the other's will instead of just letting them in. This way, the only way they should enter is if you either give up or they are truly more powerful than you. But then again, by even trying it they presume they are. Atia chuckled to herself, partially at her more logical half and partly at what Torin had just said. "I only enjoy the abuse when it's correctly presented." The smile had remained on her face. She was indeed quick to anger, but not to break as he had wished. True, she would serve him as far as necessary, but she was not his god damned slave. Now she knew what she needed to do. The protective bubble of force protecting her psyche was built again. This time, reinforced by conscious thought and effort. She could feel him. Digging, probing deeper for a weakness in the wall. But then again, by even trying it they presume they are. Of coarse he thought he was better than her. He had been lorded and she hadn't yet. She was sure her trials had been almost here when she was training under Dominique. Was her task to surpass Torin? Doubtful, but something the Dark Lord would do. But it would all change. Soon she would be lorded. Soon she would be hunting Jedi. Soon she would be killing on her terms.

Anger. Simple and useful. This is all Atia could feel right now. Just a moment ago, she had been excited about her upcoming birthday. What would be a monumental occasion regularly was now soured by Torin's harsh, uncalled for insults. There was a time, and a place, and always a reason. What is his reason, I wonder. But the question quickly fled from her mind. She was sick of it. The patronizing comments. The berating. The insulting. The physical abuse. Well, she actually enjoyed the physical abuse, but still. Her mind was consumed with thoughts of retribution. A witty phrase to respond with, or weather or not a punch in the face was in order. Anger was the only emotion she felt right now. Sure, at first her initial reaction was hurt, but over time she had learned to turn that hurt into anger without even thinking about it, physical and mental. Oddly enough, she had unconsciously complied with Torin's order. She had in a way shielded herself from Torin's mental barrage, though weakly. Her mind being consumed by anger and hatred left little room for Torin to operate in. It was harder to make mental suggestions to someone who was concentrating on something else. Her anger had subconsciously formed a rather crude shield around her mind. "I've survived quite a bit, thank you very much." She choose to take a different approach. Here, she appeared to shrug of his insult like a minor annoyance. It was a more subtle attack on his ego instead of a perpetual string of back and forth name calling. Had she been aware that Torin was trying to enter her mind, she would have tried to will him out, but as it were her unconscious shield would throw up some resistance.

Atia sat in the copilot seat of the imperial shuttle, much like her previous ship. The only drawback was that she hated sitting shotgun. Actually piloting was much better. To be in control of where you were going. To change your destination at whim. Now she didn't even know where they were going. She glanced momentarily at Torin, his red skin not much different from the red in her robes or the tips of her hair. They needed retipped, but now was not the time to bother him with this. She'd have to do that on her own time. There was something odd about his mannerisms in the hanger. Some thought had crossed his mind he quickly disregarded. She thought about probing to get it out of him, but he gave her the privacy she wanted earlier, so she decided against pressing it. That, and she hadn't really perfected delving into the sentient mind. Besides, he was probably thinking about stealing a ship or the destination. In the depths of space, the boredom of space began to touch her. She knew she should probably spend the time meditating or practicing something. Instead, her mind ran through frivolous facts. Now it had reached her age. She began counting the days and came to a realization. Tomorrow's my birthday. I'll be sixteen. Maybe this trip will be a sort of celebration. She let her excitement show. She couldn't contain her curiosity much longer. Since he said they were leaving, she had to restrain herself from asking about their destination. "So...where we goin'?"

All she could do was keep herself standing. It was too much to bare. It was so much easier hating a dead man. "Why should I believe you? Why should I let you make me feel even more like crap than I already do? At every instance we were within speaking distance you worked to hurt me in some way. Save one instance. In the cantina. What did you expect me to do? You lead me on a leash for so long and expected me to save your ass? And even after that you continued to frag with me, making me see your mutilated corpse. Believe you were dead." She stood up and wearily walked over next to him and fell down on the edge of the bed. "I don't have a reason to believe you. I really don't. Give me something. Something in exchange for my faith in you. Right now, all you do is confuse me." He voice was almost pleading, the weight of the world showing on her face and in her voice. Just give me a reason She laid there in silence, awaiting an answer but honestly expecting him to just walk out the door.

Her back throbbed with the familiar pain. She continued to sit on the dresser, brushing small shards of glass off her sleeves. "Go ahead. I deserve it. I did let the grenade stand. I did make a choice. If I had turned my attention for even a second, I could have died myself. I wasn't exactly in a position to watch out for you. I had to make sure I was safe. I don't know if it was the right decision, but it was mine to make." She stood up, shards of glass falling from the broken mirror. "But think what you would have done. Would you have taken a blaster to the face, or a knife to the chest for me? You know what we're taught. Me first and everyone else second. That's how it works. I wouldn't weaken myself for you, or anyone." She looked straight into him, keeping a solid look on her face. Unwavering in her decision. His aura seemed in flux, not solely anger, but mixed. It didn't seem to sit still. She prepared herself for another assault, letting the force extend itself in a cushioning bubble around her. "If you feel I'm wrong, then by all means fight me. But I'll not give you a moment's grace, regardless of how I may feel for you."

Anger and hate melted away as she looked at him. She hadn't even considered him being alive. She saw his body. The horrible image still carved fresh in the front of her mind. The dry air already robbing the moisture from the fresh blood caking on the sundered body. The lifelessness of the eyes. Everything from the scene burning in her mind as she stared at what should be a dead man. Without a second though she extinguished her lightsaber at ran at him, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. She stood for a moment, just enjoying the fact that he was real. Her mind wasn't playing more tricks on her. For the first time, the real guilt in her faded. He wasn't dead. She hadn't done something horribly wrong to someone who didn't deserve it. Now new thoughts jumped into her head. How did he survive? The body was real. A clone? No. That was expensive and would have taken longer. It must have been some sort of trick. But then why didn't he show himself after the fight? Her arms fell from his neck as she backed up, a meter from him as she looked up at his eyes. He was real, and he wasn't a fake. Her hand met his face with a loud crack as she continued to stare at him. "Where the hell were you?! What where you thinking, letting me think you were dead? What an ass. Leaving me to report your death like that. What is Dominique going to say when she reads my report and you show up?!"

Atia was sweating from the solo practice. Her progress wasn't as fast as she had hoped. She had never learned formal lightsaber forms, so she had nothing to gauge her progress on. The more she worked, the more she realized how little she knew. A person was walking down the hall outside the room. The presence was felt before it even stopped at the door. Somehow Atia knew someone would be coming. "Enter" She refused to halt her training. It wasn't so much that she needed the practice as it helped her turn what sorrow she had left into anger. Over time her feelings had been converted to anger and hate, to further fuel the force in her. Sadness had no place, no purpose. So it was best to make into something usable.

Atia awoke, her body feeling refreshed while her mind stayed in its state of disarray. For a moment she forgot where she was, looking around the room and probing past the walls before she remembered that she was on her master's ship. The bed was soft, begging her to remain and take the time to relax she knew she deserved. A yawn was half stiffled as she sat up, contorting her body in the oddest ways coupled with muffled groans of satisfaction. Her muscles stretched and bones cracked back into place. Only now did all her wounds scream alive. When attempting to repress the pain failed, she let herself enjoy it. The muscles in her shoulders throbbed dully while the lightsaber scarring Viktor had been gracious enough to give her burned. Viktor. A little hope in her died when the thought of him resurfaced. She wanted to forget it even happened. Everything to do with him. How they had fought, hurt each other so much. How he removed the slug with sadistic glee. His mangled corpse lying on the cantina floor. Because of her. She killed him. "I didn't have a choice." She whispered to no one. Ah, but you did child. You did. You know perfectly well you could have moved that grenade. "But then I would have been shot. That man was aiming at me as I weighed the options." You would have survived. You know you would have deflected the shot AND moved the grenade. "No" Her voice getting steadily louder, now at normal speaking level. "That shot could have killed me. It was me or him." The darker half of her consciousness rang alive again in retort. Yes, could have killed you. That grenade was definitely going to kill him. You weren't willing to take that chance were you? Viktor took that chance. When you were struck in the back, he tore that lizard of a man to shreads....for you. She sat on the edge of the bed in silence. She couldn't argue. It was right. She was scared, while he charged without regards of himself for her. But then again, you made the right choice. Better the certainty of your safety than his. It was toying with her, just trying to make her feel worse. "Why are you doing this?" She looked up, expecting to see some manifestation of this dark voice, but only the room stared back at her. So you understand me. I only wish to make you stronger. Though these events, you learn. I only want you to see everything before you begin to feel you made the wrong decision. "But I...I could have saved him. I could have. But I...." The voice cut her off. But you made the right decision. Who was he to weaken yourself for? Competition. That's all he was. He was nothing special. He tried to kill you on how many occasions? "But he never did...." She said, determined to justify the guilty feeling in the pit of her stomach that refused to go away. Because he thought you weak. If he thought you as a real threat he would have killed you long ago. He was weak in misjudging you. The weak deserve their fate. She state in quiet contemplation. It was true. He never did anything for her really. He kept playing with her like some toy. He never really thought she was any threat, which was as good as an insult. "You're right. He was nothing." She took a deep breath, holding it in for a moment before exhaling. With the breath went the guilty feeling in her. She fell free. No longer burdened by her choice. "I made my decision because I could. I bend to one will, and that is the will of my master. Only she will give me the power to be truly free." In her head, she kept repeating the Sith code in her head, finally making sense of some of the deeper meanings in it's lines. She cleaned up at the refresher and left the room. She came upon a large training room. Currently empty as most of the crew were busy reorganized from the coup, short as it was. She kept the lights off, seeing as how she didn't need them. She lit her saber and lifted it. Staring down a nonexistent foe, she began to practice. She began practicing the use of her lightsaber in combination with other force techniques. Slowly, she began to change her messy style into a new style. One seemingly just as messy and uncoordinated. Seemingly.

Atia sat on the edge of her bed and began recording all she could recall since she left Cardia. Her disappointment at the compliance of those on Hapes, her fight with Viktor, the sand people, the bar, everything. Everything except how he had removed the slug and how it felt. That wasn't really necessary in a formal report. The whole act had taken less time than she had expected, staying on task and leaving out irrelevant details. She called another crewman to take the datapad to Dominique to read at her disposal. When he was gone, she laid on the surprisingly comfortable bed. She hadn't slept in what seemed like ages. Weary and alone, she curled up in a little ball. Having recalled the whole experience left it on her mind. She began recapping what had happened, how things could have gone better or worse. Seeing where she had gone wrong and where she had succeeded beyond expectation. Viktor's shredded body. With a slow flick of her wrist, the door locked. Away from all who would judge her, she wept.

Atia docked and sent a comm to Dominique. ::Master, I have finished the task. Viktor is dead. I will await in my room until you are available to see me.::

The sound of the explosion was bound to attract more attention than Atia could handle. She carved her way through the rest of the room, the patrons shaken by the explosion. With no one left to fight, her anger abated, now aware that she needed to get out. Stepping through the corpses, she came across Viktor. He was still clutching tightly on to his lightsaber. Tendrils of the force slithered out of her hand, easing his lifeless fingers off of the lightsaber and bringing it to her hand. The lightsaber was broken. Parts of the hilt scarred with shrapnel embedded. Black char marks made an outline of his hand. She didn't feel sorry. She didn't feel happy. She just felt as if it were okay. The weak deserve their fate. She had to keep reminding herself. She closed the lids on his empty eyes, the spark of life no longer in the corpse. She clipped the lightsaber to her belt and left the bar. People were already outside, trying to figure out what was going on. She pushed through the crowd, making her way to the hanger. She jumped in his TIE fighter, no one opposing her taking a vehicle someone else come in on. She left the atmosphere and punched in the coordinates to Cardia. She sat back and meditated on what happened, asking herself why he had helped her.

Atia worked her way around the bar, slicing through patron after patron, feeding on the fear and pain emanating from her victims. She could feel every one of them, leaving her wanting more. The force constantly gave her aid to avoid blaster bolts or help her aim, delivering the most horrendous blows. She finished slicing through a rodian patron cringing under his table when she felt it. The pin being pulled, the grenade flying through air, and Viktor on the ground. Time slowed as she asked she thought for her next action. I could move it, save him. Even kill a few more with the grenade. It wouldn't be hard. The darker half of her spoke up. Ah, but why would you do that? You'd be saving a dangerous enemy. It'd save you a lot of trouble letting him die here. You could honestly tell Dominique it was no fault of yours. That, and saving him would avert your attention, if even just for a moment. It could mean your death. She threw up a wall for the impending explosion and carried on her carnage, seeing the fear and desperation in the eyes of her next target as his hands shook holding a blaster. A bolt came her way, she strafed out of the way, bringing her lightsaber around to cut the man in half.

Atia reeled from the blow for a moment, precious pain spreading through her back. She moved to attack the lizard when she noticed the thing was already dead, Viktor standing over it handing her back her lightsaber. For a moment, she thought she felt some sort of protective stance from Viktor. She dismissed the thought as another pang shot through her back, enjoying and hating it at the same time. She stood, reflexively bringing the lightsaber around, lighting it up in time to deflect a blaster bolt. Her senses attuned to the battle, feeling the patrons ready themselves. She scowled and rolled her shoulders, releasing the tension build up from her "lunch" with Viktor. She leaped at the nearest patron, not taking the time to discern the difference between those shooting at her and those trying to just take cover. To her, they were all trying to kill her. To collect on some stupid bounty. Greedy little bastards. They all deserve death. The man had just pulled out his blaster, probably just to defend himself, when she met him. The lightsaber cut through the front three inches of his throat, leaving little more than his spine to hold his head up. She felt the familiar prickle and turned to the bulk of the crowd. Two or three charged with what looked like crude stun sticks. She fought gravity for a moment and threw a table at the group. A couple more bolts flew her way and were redirected harmlessly to the wall. She desperately wished she could get the deflections right, but with a curved hilt it was harder to deflect projectiles.