Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic

Strong Winds

Chapter Twenty Four

"You do realize the Sith could return at any moment, right?"

Carth was visibly frustrated when Bastila asked him to land in the Anchorhead port once more.

"I need to speak to my mother, Onasi. It's important."

I smirked in Carth's direction then raised an eyebrow when he glared back at me. What? He said to speak to Bastila and resolve our issues. That is exactly what we were doing. Resolving issues.

The pilot reluctantly agreed and we landed once more.

"Back already? Have you even looked for the holocron, yet?"

We arrived at the cantina that evening—keeping our hoods over our faces in case any Sith still roamed the streets. Helena was one of the only patrons in the Lightside Cantina and had made that scathing remark as soon as we entered.

Bastila didn't say anything in response at first. Instead, she threw the holocron cube onto the bar in front of her mother.

"You may think I don't remember what it was like before I left for the Order, but I do. You were the one who pushed Father to go on one treasure hunt after the other. You loved living in wealth. You think I don't remember the fights?" Bastila took in a deep breath before she continued. "You were eager to send me to the Jedi, even though I didn't want to go. You took Father away from me, and now this holocron is all I have of him."

Helena leaned into the bar—she didn't even touch the holocron as she moved to drink again. Her face aged and the illness she had insisted on have now shone on her paled face.

"Your father loved you so. He wanted you to be just like him...he wanted to take you on his hunts, but I said they were too dangerous. I was hard on you, dear. I wasn't a very good mother to you, I know that. But it was a reckless life we led, always moving...I didn't want that for you. "

"And that's why you gave me to the Order?"

"What do your father and I have to show for all those years of hunting? Nothing. That was no life for anyone, especially not someone as gifted as you. Your father...he spent all his last years trying to pay for my treatments. That's why he went for the pearls. I begged him not to, but…"

"Treatments."

Again, a pain flowed through the bond. It felt similar to when Bastila watched her father's final message. I grabbed her shoulder. She didn't flinch or move when I did.

"I'm dying, Bastila. I did not lie about that. It's been a long time coming, and there's really nothing that can be done anymore. I told your father to let me go, but you know how he was. Stubborn. Like you."

It took Bastila a moment before she could speak again. "I'm so sorry, Mother. I don't know what to say…"

Helena eyed both of us. When she caught my gaze, she nodded once to herself then picked up the holocron from the bar. Taking her daughter's hand, she forced the metal object into her palm.

"Keep the holocron, Bastila. It would do me good to know you have it. This...talking to you...this is what I really needed…"

"I know, Mother." Bastila gripped the holocron tight. "Thank you."

I smiled down at the Jedi and she smiled back up at me.

That was when I remembered...I still held her shoulder.

"You there…"

Jumping, I pulled my hand away from Bastila.

Helena smirked. "You take care of my daughter, you hear me?"

I turned a confused look at the Jedi then back at her mother. Bastila pursed her lips. Her mother gave me a mysterious look. A look I was sure I'd seen on Bastila's face before…

I threw my arms into the air.

"Like she'd let me!"

"You make her let you. She's too much like her father in that respect..."

Helena coughed.

This made Bastila grow concerned once again. "Where are you going to go?"

"It doesn't matter, dear. Don't you worry about me."

"I would give you some credits but someone made me use most of them on a psychopathic droid."

Helena blinked. "Psychopathic droid?"

"Hey," I sneered. "That droid saved our asses." Before Bastila could bite back, I remembered something that was valuable sitting in my pocket..

Now, usually, I wouldn't have been keen on letting go of valuable items. I was a smuggler before all of this Jedi stuff happened and letting go of anything expensive would have been a crime with a high punishment. Possibly consisting of stripping down to the underloins and shouting "I'm a moof-milker, moof, moof!" around the ship.

However, I have been going crazy recently.

That's my excuse, yeah.

I pulled the krayt dragon pearl from my pocket and didn't look as I handed it to the Jedi.

"There. Debt repaid."

A bright laugh. It took me a moment to realize it had come from Bastila.

Why is her laugh so beautiful?

Okay, crazy thoughts. You can shut up now.

Bastila handed the pearl to her mother. "Go to Coruscant and find a doctor. I'll meet you there after... after my mission."

Her mother looked hesitant. "But I already told you there's nothing that can—"

"Please, take it. I...want to see you again. When we can talk."

Helena sighed. She stood up from the bar and asked the barman to close her tab. After paying, she faced us again.

"Alright, I will." She put the pearl in her pocket. "Now you do what you have to, Bastila. You go make your father and I proud."

The return to the Ebon Hawk was quiet. Yet, it hadn't been one of those strained silences that were normal between Bastila and I. More like a silent peace after a torrential downpour. The Tatooine nightbugs hummed, lizards slithered to eat those bugs, and merriment from the many cantinas echoed into the night.

Even if it was peaceful, I really hated it. Too quiet.

"So, what made you change your mind?"

"Hmm?" Bastila turned and met my gaze before her eyes returned to the sandy road. "About getting the holocron? You. Of course."

"Ah, yes. I am rather convincing."

"And here I'd thought we'd finally have a conversation without your enormous ego getting in the way."

"But you have to admit you feel better now after seeing your father's holocron."

We walked a few more paces in silence before Bastila sighed. "Yes. That brought me a lot of peace. More than I thought it would have." She stuck a hand in her robe pocket—most likely to make sure the holocron was still there. "Thank you for urging me towards it, Wes. After all my training, I would have thought it would have been easier. Apparently I still have much to learn."

"You and me both, huh?"

Again there was silence. This time, it felt strained and the guilt that always seemed to pervade the bond grew tenfold. I swallowed as the Jedi stopped with her face bowed.

"What happened back there...when I saw my father. That can never happen again."

"What?"

She lifted her head and met my eyes. "You used our bond to feel my emotions. Not just a fleeting ones. All of them. You broke...every shield I put up. I understand that you didn't know what you were doing. But what you did can never happen again."

Great. And I thought we'd finally reconciled.

I crossed my arms.

"Well, it was kind of hard to ignore when it felt like I was being stabbed."

"Ignore it then."

Anger that I was sure she felt through our bond heated my chest again. "That's like asking me to ignore a grenade flying in my direction. And you're acting like this is a one-way street, sunshine. If you don't want me to care about you then why don't you just stop caring about me?"

Her face grew red. "Fine, I will!"

"Fine!" I shouted back.

"Fine!"

She stomped away, the sound of the bugs and lizards following her.

Oh, how I already missed the quiet...guess it wasn't meant to be.

Yawning, I rubbed my eyes as they grew heavy. It had been a long day...mercenaries, krayt dragons, mothers, bipolar Jedi. Carth sighed as I was the last to enter the Ebon Hawk. His own face didn't look any better—bloodshot and exhausted. We all deserved a week of sleep at least.

But we had another Star Map to find.

Before I could sleep, I had to address the growing hunger that had just now reminded itself of its presence in the form of a long growl.

Surely sleep could wait for one meal?

Making something quick, I collapsed at one of the tables and absorbed the food (whatever it was) in front of me.

That was when I was approached by Verena. The Echani hadn't said much to me during our brief flight—nor did Liam in fact. I was starting to grow suspicious of her. Just who exactly was she and how did she know the boy anyway?

"I'm sorry, Jedi, but this is where we part ways."

I stopped my feast then looked up.

"Wait, what? So soon?"

"Let me explain." She rubbed her neck as she sat down beside me. "Obviously, you are no friend of the Sith...despite the droid. But staying here...I apologize for being wary, but I cannot bear to lose Liam again."

I wiped my lips. "You said you both were on the run from a Sith apprentice?"

"Well...he was a Sith apprentice. But...you know him now as Darth Malak."

Shaking my head, I continued to eat. "Join the party." After I finished chewing, I tilted my head. "Then why would it be a good idea for you to leave? Wouldn't it actually better for you to stick with us?"

"I don't want to keep running forever, Wes. Before I lost Liam, I intended to go to my home planet of Eshan to protect him."

"Nowhere is safe in this galaxy whilst the Sith are still around." When Verena didn't comment on what I said, I sighed. "What makes you think Eshan will be any safer than a moving ship with three Jedi to protect him?"

Verena thought for only a moment before she let out a sigh. "You are right. And in normal circumstances I would take up your offer. However, that droid cannot stay around. I've seen others of its kind. It is not to be trusted."

"What? T3? He's harmless."

The Echani gave me a hooded look at my joke. "The assassin droid. You do not want to keep it."

I frowned. Throw HK away? The droid did have a...weird sense of humor...yet I had been able to keep it under control so far.

I shook my head.

"He saved our lives. Saved your life in fact. I can't just boot him into space."

"Then Liam and I leave this ship."

That couldn't happen either.

"I understand the reason why you don't like HK...but why is his presence a deciding factor?"

Verena shook her head. "Those droids have been after us for years. It has only been recently when they have stopped the chase...but I do not want to risk it turning on us and attacking Liam again."

"Hmm...so it's a Sith droid. Should have guessed…" There had to be a solution to this...I snapped my fingers. "Then how about a compromise—I will reprogram and take away his assassin capabilities. Turn him into something less...trigger happy. Would that make you feel more comfortable?"

"I don't understand why you're so attached to the thing. It would be easier to destroy it."

I scooped some more rice into my mouth as I pondered that statement. "Hmm...not sure. He's pretty funny. Not a lot of humor like that going around."

"If you find him threatening us hilarious, I must have misjudged you."

"See, this is what I mean. You all take things too seriously." I finished my late dinner with a sigh. "No, the real reason I'm interested is that I had a knack for repairing droids on my old ship. You could say it's a hobby of mine. And...I want to protect Liam too. After I failed the first time...let's just say that I want some redemption. I know, it's selfish—"

The Echani stood up from the seat in front of me. "We will stay if you promise me one thing." After I nodded, she continued. "If you discover you cannot reprogram the droid, destroy it immediately. And, just so that we're clear, if I see you tampering with that thing for other enhancements, I will destroy it myself, punch you in the nads, then leave. In that order."

I gave the Echani a thumbs up. "Yup, got it. No malicious tampering with the droid's inners. Or you hit my outers. No problem."

She shook her head as she left—obviously not impressed…

Kashyyyk.

I'd never been to the jungle planet. Well...that's a lie. I'd been in orbit during a run, but that didn't count. My ship had met a Czerka vessel during a failed supply run. They wanted to trade Wookie slaves. I wasn't going to have it—but I had already unknowingly agreed to transport them. Unfortunately, they didn't take no for an answer. I had barely outrun the scum into the next system.

I drummed my fingers on the dash as I fazed out Bastila's talk to the rest of the crew—summarizing what we found on Tatooine and our next plan of action. Carth, Juhani, Verena, and Zaalbar all stood at attention while I, Mission, HK-47 (who was shut off in the corner), and Canderous stared into the abyss.

"Wes!"

I jumped as Bastila once again addressed me with a shout.

"What?"

"Are you even paying attention?"

"Of course not."

The crew that hadn't been the aforementioned dazers groaned.

"I was asking whether or not you were okay with Kashyyyk. It will take maybe three to four days to get there due to taking the long way around to avoid Malak. We will make due with some training in the meantime."

I groaned. "More training?"

"Yes, despite being away from the enclave, you still need to do your daily meditations and forms."

"When did you become my master?"

Juhani chose this moment to speak up. "If it makes you feel better, Wes, I would be happy to join in on the daily sessions."

No, that did not make me feel better.

With a short nod from me (not like I really had any say), it was decided that Kashyyyk would be the next planet we would visit.

I glanced to the side at the quiet Wookiee with a smile. "Hey, we're going to your home planet. Maybe you could show us around? Maybe roll out the Wookiee carpet?"

Bastila nodded. "Yes...having Zaalbar as our guide would speed things along."

"Wow, Bas agrees with me. Someone take a holo of this moment."

I was going to comment on Bastila's increasingly wrinkled brow resembling Vrook's face, yet I was interrupted by the Wookiee shuffling out of the room.

Odd.

With that being decided, the meeting was adjourned and I could finally go and piss. Standing and preparing myself for a long day of training and grippings from Bastila, I was stopped short by a tangled carpet.

Zaalbar had been the quiet type. He'd growl a single word as we left the ship, he'd sit in the holo-room messing with his bowcaster, or he ate a feast in the kitchens. Oh, there was also that one time he got a bath from Mission on Taris. Screaming at the teenage Twi'lek about scrubbing around his ears had been the loudest he'd ever growled.

So, I was surprised at being approached by the Wookiee.

"What's up, Zaal?"

"Kashyyyk... my home." He crossed his carpet arms. "I was taken from there as a slave. I know I should prepare you all before we get there...but I don't know if I'm prepared myself."

I glanced back at the meeting we just finished. "Could have said something during our oh-so-very important meeting, fur ball."

A loud growl. "Don't mock me, this is hard to talk about. That's why I didn't mention anything. Besides that there is more."

Oh, don't you just love hearing the word "more"?

"What now?"

"I am an exile. The slavers on Kashyyyk only took me after I was forced to leave my village home, twenty years ago."

I frowned. "Exile?"

Well, that put a damper on the Zaalbar being our guide plan.

"Yes, my brother made a deal with the slavers and allowed them to get a foothold into our village. I found out and attacked him. The fight was stopped, but my father did not believe me when I told him about my brother's betrayal. I was made an exile, disowned by my home and people." He gave a sad whimper. "I would love to be of some help, but I cannot go near my village. They will not accept me back."

I rubbed my chin. "Well...time has passed. Things will have changed. Also, you probably don't have to worry. Hopefully the Star Map will not even be near your village."

"I wish I shared your optimism, Wes, yet I do not agree."

"If it makes you feel better...when I was a smuggler, Czerka wanted me to transport some of your people. Almost died trying to get away after giving them a very descriptive no." I smiled up at the Wookiee. "What I'm trying to say is, I'll help you if we run into trouble while we're there if you help us."

A soft growl. "I don't know, Wes...let me think about it."

Zaalbar shuffled away, his shoulders still sunk into his tall form.

Now...if only I could avoid training like Zaalbar avoided Kashyyyk…

Twack!

"Kriff."

The staff hit me square in the face. Juhani hissed after I collapsed—rubbing my face from the bruise the Cathar gave me.

Juhani helped me back onto my feet, yet unlike the other times we practiced and she hit me too hard, she didn't apologize. Instead, she glared at me. I rubbed my forehead—it most likely had grown red and ugly.

"Again."

Anger. Anger which phased into calm. I tried to not glare at Bastila, yet her emotionless face pissed me off.

"Again? Excuse me, but was that Ewokese? Because I don't understand."

"Again, Wes."

Bastila threw my abandoned staff at me which I refused to catch.

"We've been at this for three hours. I can't control my emotions while being hit in the face with a stick. I never fought you on Dantooine for longer than an hour, maybe two. I'm tired, Juhani's tired, I'm hungry, you are probably hungry, and I don't see the point in being beat up like this."

Bastila glanced over to the Cathar. I was right, Juhani's face had grown terse. Her stance had fallen and her eyes drooped.

The strict Jedi sighed. "I'm sorry, Juhani, I didn't realize. You may go."

"Thank the Force," I muttered.

Juhani stomped out of the room.

What's her problem?

I kicked the staff away—I swear if I saw another one of those, I'll splinter it again.

Bastila used the Force and lifted the staff into her hand. This time, she held it to me outstretched.

"Not you. You still need to practice focus."

I glared at the end of the staff. Then, the Force within me had a will of its own and the staff went flying into the wall. The end result was a crack and the thing split into two.

Wincing, I peered up at Bastila.

"Whoops." I licked my lips to help hide a smirk growing on my face. "Guess we're outta luck there." I tutted as I put my hands in my robe pockets.

I was about to leave the training room, however, a force pulled me down by my hood, and I was on the ground again. This time due to Bastila's maneuvering with the Force. I gave her an exhausted look and didn't bother to sit up. Because this time I could sense anger through our bond and I did not want to test her...

"Have something you want to say to me, Bas? Maybe you should use your actual words to let out some of that anger instead of pulling me around with the Force like a ragdoll." I snorted. "Oh, that's right, you're angry at me for caring too much."

Bastila's stoic expression flinched. "I'm not angry at you. Just..."

She interrupted herself and sat cross-legged. Since I could no longer see her face, I sat up. I tilted my head as she resumed a meditative pose. I could tell within our bond that she was trying to suppress her emotions.

Against my better judgement, and the promise I made to stop caring, I couldn't just leave her...

"Then...what's wrong?"

Bastila shrank and her meditative pose dissipated with it. "I am angry at myself."

"Huh? For what?"

"For being inadequate." She opened her eyes and met my gaze. "The Council never really said anything to me about assisting you with training. I assumed that was what I was supposed to be doing. But I've realized how foolish this is. It is obvious that I'm not meant to instruct you."

"Wait, so you're giving up on me?"

"No...of course not. But I have met my limit on certain matters." She pursed her lips in thought. "When we started this session, you beat Juhani easily. You used the Force as if it was an extension of yourself. But after thirty minutes you began to tire and Juhani began to beat you. The way you used the Force...you rely on your passion like it is your lifeline."

"My passion?"

"There is no passion, only serenity." She sighed. "But when you pull on your emotions, your use of the Force is powerful. Overwhelming. The dark side is supposed to consume you. A master would know the next step to take. Do I encourage you to control your passion? But that may put you into a disadvantage during a battle. Or do I encourage you to draw upon your passion? That may put you in danger of falling. I am unable to find a balance."

"Sounds like you're overthinking things." I crossed my arms. "Maybe the Council was wrong. Maybe they should have sent a master with us."

"As the Council explained, sending Zhar would only have drawn unwanted attention from the Sith. The fate of the galaxy is at stake. They calculated the risks and in the end chose the only option available."

"To leave me stranded?"

Bastila sighed. "No." She crossed her arms as well. "They have made this your instruction—the journey to the Star Forge. Adding anything else to it is only a distraction."

I smiled. "So...no more distractions?"

"Oh no, you'll still have training."

I groaned. "Then the point of this conversation was…?"

"Just...expect less lecturing and more practical lessons from here on out."

"Practical is my middle name." I pushed down in order to stand. "For what it's worth, Bas, I think you're being too hard on yourself. I'm not exactly a...star pupil. But I definitely learned a thing or two about how getting hit by an angry Cathar is not ideal."

Honestly, as long as these lessons didn't last three hours and consist of her reciting the Jedi Code over and over again, I'm a happy man.

Before I left to get lunch with a skip in my stride, Bastila called out. "Practical lessons include learning how to ignore the bond if our emotions get to be too overwhelming. As we previously discussed."

I paused. Then nodded my head. "Of course…"

Neither of us wanted this bond in the first place. If that's what she wanted...how could I disagree with her?

It was lunchtime. Which meant the canteen was crowded by all of our sentient crew members.

Carth must have introduced himself to Verena during our training session. The Republic war veterans looked as if they were deep in conversation about past battles. Liam—who was always stuck by Verena's side—watched the Republic pilot with awe. An awe that I used to receive from the young boy. Yet now…

Mission and Zaalbar were playing pazaak at one of the tables. Canderous was the reluctant dealer. I was surprised to be seeing them getting along—I'd have thought the rough and tough Mandalorian would have stayed clear from the two. But he sat there regaling his war exploits to the duo.

I smiled as I walked into the room—taking in the atmosphere. This camaraderie was what I missed from my smuggling days. Although I never really joined in on the conversations with my old crew mates...the atmosphere of the room was enough. Perhaps I was able to feel this atmosphere before due to my Force sensitivity?

The last crew member—Juhani—sat in the corner with a freshly cooked Gizka. Alone.

Well, that will have to change…

I grabbed my lunch and fell into the chair in front of the Cathar.

"You were hitting me pretty hard back there...You alright?"

Juhani glanced up at me before returning to her meal with a sigh. "I…have been bothered by something of late…"

"Oh?"

"Yesterday, I overheard the young Twi'lek, Mission... I never told you where I came from, did I? Where I grew up as a child?"

"Some backwater planet..."

"I was hard on you during our training because I was trying to deny what I was feeling."

I smirked. "Wait, now you are hitting on me? I know I'm handsome and all but—"

Juhani jumped from her seat and slammed her fists onto the table.

The entire room grew quiet.

"You self centered fool! To think that I would desire to mate with one such as you, should that even be possible!" Her ears curled back. "But that's right. Wes is the center of the universe, what does it matter if my home world was wiped out by your actions! Who cares if it is because of you that everyone I knew as a child is dead!"

I was speechless. I had almost fallen out of my chair at her outburst.

"Wha—?"

"Taris! It was Taris that the Sith destroyed to try to kill you and your precious Bastila! Taris, my homeworld!"

Mission had stopped her game with Zaalbar and had rushed over to us.

She twirled her lekku. "Juhani...I'm sorry. I didn't know that—"

"You stay out of this!"

Mission frowned—her eyes teary after Juhani's callous words. Before I could say anything to make the Twi'lek feel better, she ran out of the room. Zaalbar trailed after her.

I ground my teeth as I addressed Juhani. "Was that really necessary?"

"I'm surprised she is still with you after what happened. If it were not for you and Bastila, the Sith would have never had reason to destroy that world! It was your fault for being there, and your fault for rescuing Bastila! Without your intervention the Sith would have had no cause to lay waste to my childhood!"

I sneered. "I thought you hated your home world."

"I hated that world, yet everything I learned as a child I learned there. It is as much a part of me as the air I breathe. I have this ache inside me where all my childhood memories lay, and I find your face there with them. If it was not for you, that world would still exist!"

I finally stood. "It was Darth Malak who destroyed your world."

"Yes...I know that...But if you hadn't been there..." The Cathar sighed. "It is so hard to lose your entire past. You would not understand."

"But—"

Juhani left the canteen. My cold, forgotten lunch sat there.

Suddenly, I wasn't that hungry.

"Apology: I am afraid I cannot comply with your command, master, as much as I would like to."

I sat in the garage next to the swoop bike that came with the Ebon Hawk. I had to distract myself in some way from the fight I had with Juhani. Perhaps I should have went after her...and Mission.

But I would have just made things worse.

Screwdriver in hand, I ordered HK-47 to sit and not move. After all, I had a promise to keep—might as well start fulfilling my end of the bargain.

After unscrewing a bolt, I sighed. "Well, maybe I can fix your 'reluctance' to comply."

"Qualification: You are my master, master. Did you not purchase me legitimately? Am I stolen goods? Shall I report myself to the authorities?"

"No, you...ugh." I sat back and looked the droid in the beady red eye. "I do own you but you really don't need to call me master. It's...weird..."

"Query: Don't I? I was under the assumption that organic meatbags such as yourself enjoyed such forms of address."

"You just called me a meatbag again! And if I'm your master, you should listen to my orders."

I pointed the screwdriver in HK's face before beginning to unscrew the rest of the chassis. There I would find the memory core. With a few switch flips, it should be easy to reprogram…

"Explanation: It's just that…you have all these squishy parts, master. And all that water! How the constant sloshing doesn't drive you mad, I have no idea…"

I paused in my repairs. "Neither do I, come to think of it…" I mumbled. "No, wait—"

Why was I even listening to it?

"Statement: Now do you understand the travails of my existence, master? Surely it does not compare to your existence, but still…"

Perhaps that would be the first thing to program out. The droid's weird fascination with the words "master" and "meatbag". Even though I did find both of these quips hilarious, no one else seemed to think so. And I had to start somewhere simple. Altering a droid's vocabulary was one of the easiest of tasks.

I opened the chassis. I whistled as it revealed the parts underneath.

"This is…"

Way out of my league. Whoever created this droid—whether in a Sith factory or by a dark Jedi—they had more knowledge about constructing safeguards than I. Wires curled around the mainframe and dangerous liquids sat at the bottom of the chassis. Any inexperienced tampering would either cause HK to go up in flames and/or make me go up in flames.

I sat back and scratched my head. "HK...is it even possible to alter your programming?"

The droid's head swiveled scarily around so that it faced me.

"Objection: I would not advise that, master. There are safeguards present that…well, it should suffice to say that my systems have been altered plenty already."

"Someone else has tampered with you?"

"Answer: Considerably. Several of my systems do not match their imbedded parameters. I have no memory of such alterations, however, or their purpose."

Hmm...this presented a problem. I couldn't continue tampering with HK or else I may get hurt in the process.

"But why can't I just tell you to stop calling me master without trying to change it in the programming myself?"

"Explanation: Someone has hard-coded it into my system that my current master always be addressed as such."

"That guy sounds like a pain in the ass…" I grabbed the chassis cover again and began to screw it back on to the droid. "And you don't remember anything about your previous master?"

"Answer: No, master. My past memory has been almost completely erased prior to your purchase of me."

"Almost completely?"

"Observation: At certain times, power re-routing forces some memory circuits to fire that were previously deleted. I cannot control this process, however."

"Of course…"

And I doubted I could re-route the power myself—or at least safely. At least, not without a refreshment course on droid repairs…

Verena passed the garage through to the hall. Her intense gaze watched me as I continued to screw the chassis back into place. I pursed my lips.

"Look, people on the ship really don't like it when you call them meatbag or threaten their life. Or...exist."

HK's eyes dimmed. "Amendment: Then I will endeavour not to refer to you by your meatbag status in the future, master. Does that suffice?"

I threw my hands up.

"No! Did you even listen to me?"

"Query: I am confused. 'No' you do wish to be referred to as meatbag or 'no' it does not suffice?"

"No, it does not suffice!"

"Observation: Well, the only other possibility is to alter your meatbag status. Are you up for an array of cybernetic implants, perhaps?"

I wanted to pound my head into the ground.

"Do you want to end up in a trash compactor? Because that's where Verena wants you to go."

"Objection: But Master! Am I not far too useful to be thrown aside in such a casual manner? Can I be faulted for my perfect artificial construction? Perhaps the Echani meatbag should be made to...understand."

"Now listen here, pal…"

As I waved an electrified tool in HK's face, the poor droid looked as if it was cowering.

"Correction: Err… fluid-filled biped? Watery flesh-sentient? I'll, uh, work on it, master…"

"Yeah, you'd better—"

"Wes?"

I turned and spotted Carth raising an eyebrow at me. I must have looked odd—threatening an assassin droid with an electrified screwdriver. Yet there I was—Wesley Gale. Threatening a droid with an electrified screwdriver.

I pulled away from HK and laughed nervously.

"Why yes?"

"You know...you can just turn it off if it starts to annoy you…"

HK's head swiveled to address Carth. "Condemnation: Why don't I just turn you off with my Baragwin flame thrower, you annoying, orange meatbag!"

"What did it just call me?" Carth's voice peaked.

A smirk climbed onto my face after HK made that comment, and Carth's own face grew red.

"Hey, HK? You're allowed to refer to Carth as that from now on. That's the only exception."

"Clarification: You mean call the annoying, orange meatbag an annoying, orange meatbag?"

"Yep. That one."

"Affirmative."

Carth slapped his face. "As if having one of you on board was enough..." He muttered as he stormed away.

I may postpone the reprogramming project. Or at least modify it some. HK, despite being frustratingly terrifying, has my sense of humor!

Day three of "road trip to Kashyyyk."

It remained rather quiet on board the Ebon Hawk. Juhani still hadn't left the woman's dorm and as Bastila put it "didn't feel like training." I spent all morning with Bastila doing meditations—trying hard to block the thoughts and feelings she forced onto the bond. And doing so was a difficult task indeed…

Darth Malak will haunt and destroy you! The dark side will consume you!

I smiled and bit my lip in order to hold back a laugh.

Bastila could sense my humor.

"That wasn't supposed to be funny!"

"Well, maybe next time don't say it like that. It's hard to take you seriously."

The Jedi sighed. She crossed her arms and sat cross-legged in front of me.

"You're impossible, you know that? Are you even trying?"

"Actually, yes, I am." She gave me that look. The look that said she didn't believe me. I pouted. "Why don't you show me how it's done then."

"Oh, no. I'm not falling for that."

And unfortunately, she didn't fall for that. It was too bad—I had been looking forward to passing suggestive Twi'lek dancers over into her mind.

This went on for an hour. She passed many things through the bond. Feelings of failure from memories she had in the Jedi Enclave. Feelings of pain from her previous battles. All of them I tried to block. I failed each time. It was because I hadn't mastered control over my emotions. I was too forthright.

"I know I said I wouldn't lecture." I sighed, preparing for the worst. "But you need to learn how to create a thought shield—not only for the sake of our bond but also to stop the Sith from invading your mind."

I knew what she said was true. If I didn't master blocking my emotions—at least temporarily—the Sith could read my every move during battle. Yet, saying and doing were two different things.

Bastila rubbed her forehead after this emotion session bore no fruit.

"Perhaps I am making this too difficult..."

I sighed, both tired and hungry. Why did I always get hungry during these sessions?

"How do you make it look so easy?"

Bastila pursed her lips. "Part of it is due to my training in Battle Meditation. While I also learned how to intentionally pass along surface level emotion, I also had to learn how to defend myself from Sith who would invade my meditation..."

A coldness. Claws which grabbed upon her mind. A red mask—

I blinked—I was able to block the rest of the feelings.

She smiled. "Good job. You were able to block it that time. Perhaps it was due to the unexpected intensity..."

I frowned at the few emotions and images I did see.

"Revan invaded your mind?"

Fear...terror…

I blocked more of these emotions. Yet, it felt strained.

Eventually, after a minute of silence, she sighed, though it was shaky. "Many times. Once the Sith learned of my presence on the battlefield, Revan tried to personally combat me. Not only physically but mentally as well. It was...difficult. Painful. But I succeeded in pushing him back every time." She paused—I could tell she was trying to suppress her memories of the battles they had. "Which is why you need to learn how to shield yourself. I do not want you to feel what I felt."

Bitter disgust burned my tongue. "I'm glad he's dead."

Bastila met my gaze.

"Wes, that isn't—"

"—the Jedi way. I know. Don't care. If Revan made you suffer like that, he got off too easily, I think."

She didn't say anything else after that. I could sense the thought shield she put up now that I knew what to look for. It didn't make me feel any better about it though. No, I only wished that she would open up—not only to me, but to the rest of our crew.

No one should have to suffer alone.

It was nightfall—or at least that was what the clock said. Everyone had located the dorm rooms and had fallen asleep. However the thoughts of today, the future, the present—all of it became too much for me. I had a sudden thirst and sat up from my bunk. Careful not to wake anyone, I left the dorm and headed towards the storage room. I searched high and low in the compartments for at least a bottle—any bottle. Unfortunately, besides a strange looking locked compartment (that looked like something Davik Kang hid spice or dead bodies in), I came up empty handed.

Kriff.

Guess this will be a sleepless night.

I resorted to sitting alone by the holodeck trying to calm my shaking.

I know—I have a problem. Yes. But, see—this was a problem I didn't have to let anyone know about. I'd survived without a drink before. Weeks at a time, actually. But sometimes, when I couldn't sleep, it was just easier to let alcohol do the work for me. And when I felt that urge, well...I couldn't sleep until I found something.

I sighed as I ran a hand through my hair. Eventually, I felt a presence beside me.

Carth.

Normally, I would have commented on his lack of orange jacket, but I was not in the mood. I actually wanted him to go away. Unfortunately, Carth spoke before I could say anything.

"I had the same problem after my wife died."

I held in a breath at his words. Then, guilt flooded my chest.

Carth continued. "I told you about my home world. Telos. Four years ago, Saul led the Sith fleet there and demanded its surrender. The planet refused and Saul proceeded to devastate its entire surface. Millions died. I had...a wife and son on Telos. I thought they would be safe there. But my task force arrived too late to be of much help. We didn't have enough medical supplies. The colony was burning and the dying were everywhere. I remember holding my wife and screaming for the medics. They didn't come in time."

I stared into the palm of my hands. I winced after realizing the tone deaf comment I made to him the other day.

"I'm sorry...I didn't know."

"Of course not. How could you?" His voice trailed afterwards. "I...had nothing left after that, really. For many months, I drank in order to forget what happened. But drinking my problems away wasn't enough. So, I devoted myself to the fleet. Hunting Saul was my only purpose."

I glanced over to Carth who sat attentive—determined. For once we were actually speaking to each other. Man to man. I would have made a wry comment on this, but again, not in the mood.

"I didn't really have much of a purpose...before." I stared deeply into the swirling patterns of the holodeck. "My planet had been destroyed as well—mandalorians. I'd been enslaved then rescued by my mentor. She taught me many things about how to be a smuggler. But I still felt the loss of my home. My purpose." I sighed. "I'm envious of you, Carth. I don't like to admit it but it's true. You found a purpose with the Republic. Me? A smuggler? A Jedi?" I shrugged. "Nothing has ever felt right to me."

Carth nodded as he listened, leaning into the deck. "For what it's worth...I hope you find a purpose someday, Wes. A true purpose."

I raised an eyebrow at the Republic pilot. Surprised, mostly, that he didn't insist that being a Jedi was now my ultimate purpose (as I would have expected a certain someone to insist).

A small smirk graced my lips. "Besides being a pain in the ass?"

He smiled back. "At least you're self aware."

I stood—feeling less thirsty than I had before. Who knew talking could do that?

Stretching and yawning, I called back to the pilot. "Come on, orange meatbag. Better get some sleep—we have a long day of dealing with those Czerka bastards tomorrow."

Carth sighed. "As if being called Orangy hadn't been bad enough…"