"Who programmed that damn droid of yours?" a dark-haired man complained, rubbing his hand along his chiseled jawline as he entered the room. "If I ever meet them, I'll snap their neck," he threatened as he took a seat at the opposite end of the long, silver table.

"I happen to like that droid, Squint," he replied, keeping his eyes fixed upon the countless papers scattered across the table as he shuffled through, searching for the one he needed. "Why don't you like him?"

"It. Not he, it. It keeps calling me a stupid nickname, kind of like you do, but even more annoying," Squint griped, arms crossed. "It's getting on my last nerve." The sound of laughter filled the air as Squint glared at him. "Exactly what part of this is funny to you?"

"All of it," he laughed. "He only calls you that, but maybe I'll tweak his programming so he calls everyone that because it's pretty damn funny."

"It's not funny when he calls you that in the middle of an important holovid call with the Republic higher-ups," he snarled. "I'm trying to get respect for -"

"Oh, it'll be fine," he interrupted with a reassuring smile. "You need to lighten up, meatbag."

"Meatb-" Squint snorted angrily. "You put that stupid droid up to it, didn't you? I swear, one day I'm going to melt that droid into scrap and then I'm going to kill y-" The sound of HK firing his blaster woke Penn, cutting his dream short. When he opened his eyes, he was blinded by the brilliant sunlight poking through every seam and rip of the tent's fabric.

He lifted his head off the ground slightly before thinking better of it, softly groaning as he laid it back down and closed his eyes. As he laid, he felt a small weight on his chest. Thinking it was nothing more than a dune creature, he reached down to brush it off, but heard a feminine moan when he touched the form. Penn opened his eyes and looked down his body to see Bastila, still fast asleep, resting on his chest.

"Dammit," he whispered before running his hand along his face. After last night, he wasn't sure how to react. One part of him wanted to wake Bastila and tell her to stay the hell away. The other wanted to forget about the fight, kiss her, strip down and finish what they'd started. Neither seemed like a good choice, so he remained still, racking his brain for a more feasible third option.

Instead, a pang of guilt crept into his mind - he'd said quite a few things he probably shouldn't have, but Bastila wasn't innocent either. The evening was perfect - and undoubtedly would've ended with making love for the first time - if not for her calling out someone else's name. Or rather, the beginning of someone's name. That detail hurt more than he'd like to admit. The fact that he was being was pushed away on account of an ancient code he doubted many Jedi followed as closely as she was equally painful. And, 'you're bad for me'? What the hell did that even mean?

As he laid lost in thought, he extended his arm, being careful not to wake Bastila, and reached into his sack. He wrapped his fingers around his canteen and pulled it out, inadvertently spilling the contents of the bag on the floor. The commotion made Bastila stir, but she stayed asleep, softly groaning his name as she shifted on his chest. "Why couldn't you remember it last night?" he whispered bitterly before taking a sip of his lukewarm caffa.

"Query: Ah, what have we here? An unsuspecting meatbag," HK said just outside the tent. "This should be fun."

The 'translation' droid's words fell heavy on Penn's ears. Unsuspecting? "HK, no!" he yelled as he pushed Bastila off his chest and rushed out of the tent, arriving just in time to knock HK off his balance as he fired. Although Penn's shove diverted the shot that would've drilled through the head of the green Twi'lek in the distance, the man collapsed, disappearing into the dunes. "Dammit," Penn muttered as he began running toward the fallen traveler.

A string of curses that surely would've made Bastila blush left the Twi'lek's mouth as Penn approached. The Twi'lek's back was turned, but when he heard a stranger nearing, he spun around quickly, yelping in pain as he moved, and pointed his blaster at a defenseless Penn. "This is your fault!" he wailed, pointing at the blood seeping out of his leg with his free hand.

"I know," Penn nodded, raising his hands skyward in an attempt to show the man he meant no harm. "I'm sorry, but I can help you. My, uh," he paused, not quite sure what to call Bastila. Chaperone? That didn't seem right - too juvenile. Lover? Despite what happened just a few hours prior, Bastila may've slapped him for allowing the word 'lover' cross his mind. Honestly, he wasn't sure he'd even like to think of her in that capacity right now.

"Your what?" the Twi'lek interrupted his internal struggle.

"Friend," he recovered. "My friend can help heal you. She's good with that sort of thing." Penn extended his hand to the Twi'lek, hoping to help him up and off the scalding hot sand, not only for the man's good, but also for his own. In his haste, he'd forgone shoes, a decision he was sorely regretting as the soles of his feet began to tingle.

"You're not working with Kale, are you?" the Twi'lek asked through narrowed eyes.

"I've got no idea who the hell that is," Penn answered, the agitation in his voice growing as his toes began to curl in pain. "Just let me help you."

After a few agonizing moments, the Twi'lek stowed his blaster in the holster resting at his hip, stretched out his arm and grabbed Penn's hand with his sweaty palms. Once he lifted him up, Penn slung the man's arm atop his shoulders, taking on the majority of his weight, and began walking back to the tent.

"What's your name?" Penn asked, trying to distract himself from the blistering flesh of his feet.

"Fortuna. Komad Fortuna. Expert treasure hunter and part time Czerka employee. You?"

"Penn Thayer," he answered, grunting as Komad stepped on his already tender foot. "Republic scout." Introducing himself as a Jedi still felt strange and unnatural, so he chose not to.

"Thayer?" Komad's eyes widened. "You're Kelborn's friend."

"I wouldn't exactly call us friends, but yeah," Penn nodded. "How'd you know that?"

"He sent me out here. Well, sort of."

"Sort of?" Penn narrowed his eyes, waiting for an explanation.

"I may've overheard him and another Mandalorian talking in the cantina about a man named Thayer and a cute little brunette looking for a machine in the desert. I found one a few years back in a cave, but I haven't been able to get back to it because a damn krayt dragon decided to make that cave her burrow." The Twi'lek paused his story as Penn set him down on a piece of junk that had functioned as a chair the night before.

"Hold that thought." Though he was technically leader of the mission, he wanted Bastila's input on the man's impending plea for help. "I'll be right back," Penn promised as he rushed into the tent. "Hey, I - babe?" To his surprise and horror, Bastila was huddled on the tent floor, clutching her arm with all her might. Although he couldn't see its source due to the long sleeves of her sleeping robe, a steady trickle of blood was snaking down her hand and dripping into the sand. All the hurt and anger from the night before vanished as he darted to her. "Babe, what happened?" he asked as he moved to remove her robe.

"Don't do that," Bastila yelped, shoving him away with her foot. "I don't have much on underneath this. It wouldn't be proper."

"I think we're past that point after last night," Penn reminded her, regretting the statement the instant she shot him a look of embarrassment and anger. "Force, that's not what I meant," he exhaled. He turned and fumbled through his sack, searching for an extra shirt he'd packed. Once he found it, he unfolded it and sliced off the sleeves with the dagger on the floor. "Put this on," he handed her the shirt and turned around before she asked.

With his back turned, he listened as she struggled with the robe. "So what happened?" he asked, taking advantage of the lull by slipping on his boots.

"Nothing," she lied. "I was clumsy."

"What happened?" Penn reiterated firmly, turning around to face her just as he pulled the shirt over her midriff. The sight of her in his clothing was, quite honestly, a bit of a turn on, though the thought of admitting that to her was out of the question. The plain tan shirt was loose and barely showed her enviable figure, however, the rips in the sleeves were low and wide enough to reveal the sides of her bare breasts and rib cage.

Seemingly unaware of his wandering eyes, Bastila's expression softened, alerting him that he was about to receive the true story. "When you pushed me off your chest, I fell on top of the dagger that had slipped out of your sack," she said softly. "I tried to heal myself, but I couldn't."

"Force," he shook his head, the pain of knowing her injury was his fault eating him up inside. "I'm so sorry. I wish I knew how to heal you. Zhar never taught me how."

"I can try to teach you," Bastila replied sheepishly. "Place your hands on my arm."

Being careful not to hurt her further, Penn gently touched the gash before pulling his hands away at the sight of her wincing in pain. "Sorry."

"It's fine," she shook her head before grabbing his hands and placing them back on her arm. The feel of her hands on his sent a rush of heat into his chest. It was obvious she felt the same sensation when she pulled away, cleared her throat and closed her eyes. "Close your eyes," she instructed. "Allow the Force to run through you." The two sat in silence - Penn channeled all his focus into healing her, yet nothing happened.

"I don't think this is working," he exhaled, angry with himself for failing her. "I'm sorry I -"

"An old friend told me that if you have a connection with the person you're trying to heal, recalling a fond memory and focusing on it helps," Bastila offered. "That's what I do with you," she said softly, a blush creeping into her cheeks. "Try again."

Although he didn't want to, he was willing to try again for her sake. Penn glanced at her once more before closing his eyes and searching for a fond memory to focus on. For a few moments, he wondered what memory she could've been focusing on when she healed him on Taris. They'd had absolutely no fond memories at that point. "Focus," he jerked his mind back to the present situation.

Try as he might, all he could think of was the sight of her flawless skin and subtle curves from the night before. The unbridled excitement in her eyes. The taste of her lips. The feel of her - "Get it together, Penn," he reminded himself mentally, closing his eyes tighter in an attempt to concentrate on a memory where she was fully clothed.

As he focused, he felt the Force running through his fingertips and exiting his body. He delved deeper into his mind to continue the healing when something strange happened. A short flash of something that hadn't happened crossed his mind - he was behind her, guiding her hands as she constructed a lightsaber. In the fleeting glance out of the corner of his eye, he could tell she was younger, possibly a teenager. It was obvious that she was trying - and failing miserably - to wipe a nervous grin off her face. Then, a sharp pain burned in his head, ending the vision.

"Frack!" he yelled out, pushing away from her in pain. The excruciating pain was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It was as if someone had taken a white-hot dagger and jammed it into his temple, yet at the same time, it was almost calming.

"What is it?" Bastila opened her eyes. "You haven't finished the healing. You were doing so well."

"I can't do this," he shook his head. "It's too much."

"Is this some sort of sick payback for what happened last night?" she narrowed her eyes.

"I'm not that much of an asshole, but thanks for the vote of confidence," he snarled, still reeling from the stinging pain. "I just can't do this," he said as he ripped the leftover sleeves of his shirt into strips of cloth to wrap her arm with. He didn't want to tell her about the strange flash - at least, not now. Even she would think it was insane and he knew it.

"Penn, you need to learn to rely on the Force," Bastila said through gritted teeth as he dressed her wound. Whether she was gritting her teeth in anger or pain was unclear, but Penn didn't stop wrapping her arm. "The Force and the code is all you have, Penn. Remember that. When everyone else fails you, it never will."

"It's not all I have," Penn shot back. "I'm not going to go through life expecting everyone to screw up and walk out on me."

"Well that may be true for you, but the code is all I have in life," she raised her voice, a bit of venom in her tone.

"It's not all you have," he matched the volume at which she spoke. "You have -"

"Stop," she screamed. "I don't want to hear it."

"You may not want to hear it, you need to," he growled as he shook his head, unable to stop himself. "You have people who love you and aren't going to abandon you. Despite what you might think, I know your mother loves you. Carth loves you. Mission loves you. The whole crew loves you. I love you. You've got so much more than just the damn code."

"Love is forbidden," she stated in a calm yet shaky voice, a stark contrast to the loud voice she used before. "The code says -"

"To hell with the code," he interrupted. "What's so wrong about love?"

"It - it -"

"Do you think it's wrong just because the Jedi code told you so? You keep pushing everyone who cares about you away on account of that stupid code but don't even know why."

"Shut up," she yelled to no avail, her eyes taking on a glassy haze.

"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe it's ok if you make your own decisions and stop living your life based on some bantha shit a couple of Force users got together and wrote based on how they thought people like us should live?" The instant he stopped speaking, Bastila slapped him, her expression unreadable as her cheeks flushed. As crazy as it sounded, for a moment he swore she was going to kiss him before restraining herself.

Both stared at the other in silence for several moments before Penn finally spoke. "HK shot some Twi'lek," he said quietly, conceding he'd pushed her too hard. Admittedly, he hadn't planned on saying as much as he had, but once the floodgates opened, they were nearly impossible to close. "I don't have enough credits to pay him for his trouble, so I promised him you'd heal him."

"That's fine," Bastila replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just give me a moment."

Penn nodded and turned to leave before he stopped - if he didn't say what was on the tip of his tongue, he knew he'd regret it. With his back still turned to her, he spoke in a low voice. "I know you probably don't want to hear it, but I'm not giving up on this that easily. I'm not giving up on you that easily." Although he didn't specify what he meant what he meant, he knew it was abundantly clear. Deep down, he knew she wanted to be loved and believed in love. Fighting the urge to turn and see her reaction, he kept moving forward, grabbing his shirt along the way and scooted out if the tent to speak with Komad.

"I heard yelling. What happened in there?" the Twi'lek pried.

"Nothing," Penn shrugged him off. "She'll be out to help you in a second." The two sat in silence for several moments as Penn fastened a few buttons of his old scout uniform shirt and rolled up the sleeves on account of the heat. Finally, Bastila came out of the tent and rushed for Komad, intentionally turning her back to Penn. In the split second he saw her face, he could see her eyes were red and puffy, as was her nose. His heart dropped even he saw her, but his focus was broken by Komad's voice.

"Now that we're all here, can we get back to my proposition?" Komad asked, a bit of impatience in his voice.

"Go for it," Penn motioned at him, doing little to hide the involuntary roll of his eyes. At this point, he couldn't care less what the Twi'lek had to say.

"Great," Komad clapped his hands together before stealing a glance at Bastila's hand on his injured thigh. "You're quite pretty," he smiled at her.

"Focus," Penn barked. In all honesty, he couldn't fault Komad. Even though she'd obviously been crying, she still looked stunning. Bastila had put on a pair of dark brown pants and tucked the long cutoff shirt into them. If not for her Jedi-exclusive boots and the lightsaber resting on her hips, she would've passed as just another treasure hunter.

"Sorry, sorry," he raised his hands. "Not trying to intrude on your girl, just offering a simple compliment. I'm a nice guy. You know, I was once told that I -"

"Suggestion," HK interrupted. "Master, allow me to eliminate this meatbag. No one will ever know."

"Make it quick, Komad," Penn urged him, fearing for the Twi'lek's safety and growing more impatient by the second.

"Alright, alright. Since you folks are looking for the machine I've seen in there and I want some of the treasure that's in the cave," he motioned to a rock formation in the distance, "I say we work together and split what's in there, let's say, oh, 70-30? All you have to do is kill the krayt dragon. Easy enough, right? Whaddya say?"

"Just kill a krayt dragon?" Penn snorted. It was obvious that he and Bastila weren't from these parts, but he wasn't stupid. Killing a krayt dragon was no small feat.

"And what if the machine that's in there isn't the one we're looking for?" Bastila asked in a small, nasally voice, cementing Penn's hunch that she'd been crying. "What exactly would we find that would be of any use to us?"

"Dunno," Komad shrugged. "The last hunter who went in died a long time ago. Heard he found quite a bit in there but went back one too many times because he was greedy bastard. Old timers in Anchorhead said he was a real nice guy though. Jax - maybe Juniper - Shan? Something like that. I know it started with a 'J'."

Shock took over - Bastila's hands began to shake and her jaw began to quiver. "Shan?" Penn jumped in, trying to hide his own surprise. "You're absolutely sure?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "The details are a bit fuzzy, but I know his last name was Shan. Jet? Jef? Jedd? J-"

"Jasper," Bastila interrupted breathlessly. "When can we leave?"

"The sooner the better," Komad answered.

"We can pack up the camp later," she said softly, wiping her nose with the side of her hand. "Let's go." Without a moment's hesitation, she began walking into the dunes and in the direction Komad pointed out earlier.

"Your friend looks good from behind too," Komad whispered, elbowing Penn in the arm with a smile as he watched her walk before him. Apparently Bastila heard the comment - suddenly, Komad's feet kicked out from beneath him, sending him to his back. "That was odd," he dusted off his bottom as he pushed himself off the sand, looking around for what may've tripped him.

Despite the rush of emotions, Penn couldn't help but smile. Sometimes living with the Force really did have its advantages.

A/N - Thanks for reading! Just a few quick notes...

First, I'm going to try my best to stay on schedule and update the fic regularly, but the chapters' growing length as well as life, friends, etc., sometimes make it difficult. Second, thanks for not ripping my head off after the last chapter. I was a tad concerned just because it's so far off canon, but you guys were awesome and supportive, as always! And finally, thanks for all your reviews, PMs and the like. You've all given me fantastic ideas that I'm working on implementing into the fic.