"Don't think I don't know."

"Know what?"

"You sneaking around past hours. I wasn't born yesterday. You're planning something."

"Uh, so I can't go for a piss at night anymore without 'planning' something?"

"You always look up."

"What?"

"When you lie."

"You've got me. I've been looking for Sith artifacts hidden in the restricted section. I found Exar Khun's holocron—"

"You also start spouting bullshit when you're caught in a lie."

"..."

"Look, whatever you're getting yourself into, I'll back you up in a heartbeat."

"Believe me. I've already made up my mind. You won't be any help."

"And what, exactly, is this subject that you've made your mind up on?"

"..."

"Come on, pal. You know how I hate being left in the dark."

"But sometimes...sometimes it's better that way."

The incoherent whispers dissipated into the nether regions of my mind. When I awoke, I felt shifted, bruised. A hard bed was beneath me, clean air above me. My right side hurt like hell, my hand throbbed. Lifting my head carefully, I took in the white ceiling—the med bay of the Ebon Hawk. When I moved an arm, bandages brushed against my skin.

I sat up, tenderly, feeling my head—cold kolto curing the burns there as well. Why was I getting treated for burns? What happened?

That's when I remembered.

I went to stand and grabbed my lightsaber at my belt. But the many burns along the right side of my body caused me to suck in a pained breath instead. I collapsed onto the hard rock spread with a sigh.

Someone walked into the room and I knew even without looking who it was.

"Don't move. You're still recovering," Bastila said.

My head fell onto the small pillow and I rolled my eyes up to the white ceiling once again. "What time is it?"

"2100."

"How long was I out?" I asked.

"Half a day now."

I paused, rubbing kolto solution out of my eye. "How big was that explosion? Did it—"

—kill everyone there?

But the words never left my mouth. The Jedi felt sympathetic through our bond, more than likely sensing my horror and guilt. I tried to push her out of my mind but it was like pushing away a warm meal while starving.

Bastila sat on the chair beside the bed.

"The explosion killed everyone that was unable to escape the blast radius."

I forgot the warmth then, replacing it with cold anger. "Where were you?" I asked. "I thought we were supposed to stay together?"

"Perhaps you shouldn't have ignored our bond then," she said, crossing her arms. "When you left, two Sith assassins entered the cantina. Mission, Juhani, and I led one of them in the alleyway where he attacked us. I tried contacting you multiple times while you were off doing who knows what. You refused to listen."

"What are you talking about? I listen—"

"Only when you thought it was important enough."

I kept my gaze locked within the Jedi's before finally giving up, laying back down once again. Why did I always turn into a cowardly mynock around her?

An awkward minute passed before she continued. "The Sith didn't just attack us. They tracked us here. This was no accident. Somehow, they learned that we were on the move."

I sighed as I sat up further. "Probably one of those Czerka bastards leaked our position to the Sith. No wonder it took an hour to land."

"That's not all," she said.

"There's more? "

Holding a datapad, she seemed to hesitate before placing it onto my lap. Taking it up with my uninjured left hand, I scanned the message:

Bastila Shan has escaped Taris on a ship called the Ebon Hawk. You three have been dispatched to Tatooine to find a woman with brown hair and pigtails: Talravin accent. You are also searching for a Jedi that should be traveling with her, a male human with shoulder-length dark hair: Coruscanti accent. Dead or alive. Say nothing of this to your fellow Sith. Penalty for failure is death.

I lowered the datapad.

"They're Jedi hunters," I said.

"Yes, obviously."

I scanned the message again. They mentioned me as well. Odd. Maybe they were just desperate to convert or kill any old Jedi. Just like what Master Vrook and Master Zhar...

But, wait, how did they know I was a Jedi? I wasn't one on Taris and I swear we didn't run into Malak on Dantooine unless Bastila bumped my head in a few too many times. Had there been a spy at the Enclave?

The thought that someone had been watching me for a month sent a shiver down my spine.

I looked up from the abnormal message. "What do we do?" I held up the datapad. "There's one more out there looking for us."

"We'll have to be careful from here on out," she said. "Hide our lightsabers, our presence..."

"Well, yeah, I suppose we were practically broadcasting ourselves over the HoloNews network yesterday."

When she nodded slowly, I noticed something else bothering her at the edge of my mind—like a slight quiver or vibration. Before she had the chance to leave, I leaned forward.

"There's something troubling you," I said. "What's wrong?"

Her eyes wavered to the floor as if I was somehow there before coming up to meet the med bay's wall.

"I took watch outside the ship while you were unconscious. Last night, a friend of my father's came up to me. My mother is here. On the planet. And she's close by."

I blinked once in surprise. Bastila's mother? The one that apparently was a jerk to her? My face brightened.

"That's great!"

She glared at me. "Great? How is that remotely great?"

"Well...she's your mother, right? Why isn't that great? You can catch up. Tell her about all your Jedi adventures—"

"No," she said. "No, no, no! A Jedi is supposed to let go of all previous connections."

"But what about your father? Don't you want to at least see him?"

"Not even him." She sighed. "Look, our mission comes first and foremost. No distractions. I don't expect you to understand—"

"I understand perfectly." I crossed my arms, flinching at the burns. "You're running away."

"What?" She sputtered. "I am—I am not—"

"For Force sakes, woman, it isn't as if your mother is Darth Revan. What are you afraid of?"

"That—That isn't—"

"First thing tomorrow we'll go see her."

"You're injured."

"So? My legs still work."

"Why are you being so insistent?" she asked. "This is none of your business."

"So you don't like it when your business is being meddled with, huh? Funny."

"That isn't the same. While I meddled for the fate of the galaxy, you are meddling for purely selfish reasons."

"What's so wrong about being selfish once and a while?" I asked.

"You risk—"

"Falling to the dark side. See? I can complete all your sentences now. That's how laughably predictable you are."

She stood—the kinrath-pup-expression appeared on her face once again. Before I could say anything else, she shoved a finger into my face.

"We are not going to see my parents. We are finding the Star Map and leaving before more Sith assassins find us."

She twisted around, leaving me there alone in the med bay. I considered shouting after her but I realized doing so would be a waste of my energy. I laid back down, glaring at the ceiling once again.

I tried resting in the med bay for an hour, however, I couldn't fall back asleep on the hard thing no matter how long I closed my eyes. Since the painkillers were beginning to work through my system, I decided to stand, muttering curses in Mando'a as I did.

Kriffing Sith assassin. Committing suicide to kill me—killing innocent people in the process...somehow making me feel guilty for it all.

They were true monsters.

Yeah, the drugs weren't enough. I'm pretty sure mixing alcohol with kolto won't cause too many terrible effects. Hopefully.

I limped into the storage compartments and searched the bins. Tarisian ale. I hefted up the green bottle. Hate the stuff but it'll do.

I was surprised to find Canderous sitting by the holoprojector with a bottle himself. I sauntered into the kitchen, placed my own bottle in the cabinet, then grabbed a glass. I sat beside him, wincing.

A deep laugh rumbled from him.

"Nasty things, thermal detonators," he said. "You wouldn't expect such a small explosive to contain such a massive blast radius. A while back I chucked one into this small asteroid field. Some smugglers hid behind it thinking they could escape. As it turned out, the frozen gases on the rocks ended up frying their ships."

I smirked as I poured some of Canderous' half-empty bottle into my own glass. I took a painful swig.

"That's not even the whole story," Canderous continued. "One asteroid practically came to life, flicking molten shards at us, burning away armor, and flew off."

"A ship?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. We followed it up to the Unknown Regions. No one is stupid enough to go into that great void."

I raised my glass. "Except the Sith."

He smirked, raising his glass with mine. "Except the Sith."

Afterwards, I finished my first glass and filled it up again. My chest began to buzz, my movements slightly delayed, however, instead of normally seeing double by now, the Force neutralized my reflexes. Funny—being drunk with control of the Force that is. Despite that sounding like a positive, it felt strange not succumbing to the effects of alcohol immediately.

"So, what about you?" Canderous asked. "I've given you my piece. I'm sure a smuggler turned Jedi has some crazy stories to tell."

I rubbed the rim of my glass with a smile. "No, not really. I'm not very interesting."

"More interesting than flyboy and that crazy Cathar." He leaned forward. "I noticed it when you fought the clan on Dantooine. You have the walk of a warrior. Did you fight in any battles during the war with my people?"

I spit the ale back into my glass. I took a moment to wipe my mouth while suppressing laughter.

"Fight? In the war? Hell no! A battle is probably the last place you'd find me. I used to be a smuggler, remember? Warrior..." I shook my head, a smile still touching my lips. "Ridiculous."

"Really? You sure?" The old Mandalorian glanced down into his drink. "Strange, I'm never wrong. Well, if you didn't fight in the war, then why didn't you?"

"Not everyone wants to die in battle, Mando."

"Of course, not everyone desires that honor. But not you."

I stopped drinking and glared at him over the rim of the glass.

"I had a ship to run. I couldn't just drop everything."

"Yet you dropped everything for this war. Why didn't you take up the fight for the last? Cowardly smugglers hide behind asteroid belts. But you? You jumped into a fire to save some kids. You hide behind nothing."

I placed my drink down on the armrest, creasing my eyebrows, glaring at him.

"Stop acting like you know me, Mando."

Canderous stared at me before eyeing his drink again.

"Of course..." I thought he was finished with his annoying questions, but an ugly smile spread across his face. "But you wanted to join, didn't you?"

My mouth flew open before it closed again. The wall suddenly became interesting so I gazed towards it, avoiding the Mandalorian's smile.

Why didn't I fight? Why didn't I sign up with the Republic Navy all those years ago? Deep down, I knew I would've abandoned the smuggling life in order to fight the people that destroyed my home. To help return the planets to the people of the Outer Rim. To be bigger than what I was. What I knew I could be.

But I never did.

Was it because I was afraid? Because I didn't want to face my demons? Or maybe it was something else. But what? I never hesitated. Never regretted. Always acted. And I should have acted back then.

But why didn't I?

Canderous stood up, taking his bottle.

"I don't care why you didn't join the fighting, Jedi. It's only a shame that we never met on the field of battle." He turned, walking off. "Probably never will now."

That's what this was.

A shame.

Would it have been worth it? Deralia wouldn't come back whether I fought or didn't fight the Mandalorians. It ended up for the better anyway. Revan defeated them while I didn't have to lift a finger. So, in hindsight, would it have been worth it?

Bitterness spread across my tongue and it wasn't because of the ale.

I took a drink.

It didn't matter and shouldn't matter. All that mattered was the here and now. Not the what-ifs or should-have-beens. Not my smuggling, cowardly past. Not what I used to be. Nor the decisions I never made.

"What an alcoholic..."

Carth's voice split my head. I opened my eyes with a sputter, peeling my injured head up from the hard chair beside me. I had fallen over in my sleep, a glass of Tarisian ale tipped over onto my lap. The light from the holoprojector was way too bright but Carth's orange jacket was brighter.

I rubbed dried drool from my mouth.

"What time?" I mumbled.

"Early." He sighed. "I can't believe a drunken slob like you is a Jedi."

I snorted into the seat, using my left hand to clumsily lift myself up, grabbing the glass from my lap and setting it down on the armrest. I grabbed the bridge of my nose when my head began splitting again.

"Kriiiff..."

"That's what happens when you drink with kolto in your system."

"Alright, alright, I get it, orange, stop shouting."

"Oh, so it's just 'orange' now?" Carth asked.

I removed my hand, glaring into the sun that was Carth. "Your jacket looks like a kriffing orange."

"I think I got that the first time. You didn't have to clarify."

"Why do you even wear that stupid thing?"

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Right...I'll just wait to talk to you later when you can speak Basic."

Carth walked off. Unfortunately, I was too exhausted to call after him.

The morning rays were shining far down the hall from the cockpit. It took me a while to gather the energy to stand. When I did, I headed towards the med bay, intent on filling myself up on painkillers. As I entered the hall, an energetic Twi'lek barged around the corner and into my torso.

Cursing, I held my side.

Mission backed up. "Oh! I'm sorry, Wessy! Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I heaved. "Just fine."

"You look like a mess."

"Well, a thermal detonator does that to you."

A small smile lit her features. "I thought you were a goner, Wes. Bastila freaked...err, I mean—calmly used her magic to push you away like nothing!"

I walked into the med bay and Mission followed.

"What's the rush anyway?"

I went through the medicine cabinet as she sputtered.

"Oh, nothing," she said. "What, I can't run around places without having a reason?"

I took out a bottle, measuring out a few pills. "Oh, sure. But it's more practical to save your energy for when you need it."

"I never run out of energy."

Swallowing the painkillers, I shook my hungover head.

"Doubt it."

I closed the cabinets and walked towards the bridge to confront both Bastila and Carth. However, before I arrived, I was stopped by the Twi'lek's sigh.

"Alright, alright...I'll confess."

I twirled around, raising an eyebrow. "Confess what ?"

She hesitated, her eyes twitching every which way, then she raised her hands up as if to shield herself. "I-I was only out there for an hour, I swear! And...don't blame Zaalbar for letting me out. I made him do it for seconds!"

My shoulders tightened and I clenched my teeth when pain from my wounds flared.

"Are you crazy?" I shouted. "There's a Sith assassin out there. They could've found and tortured you for information—!"

"No! It's...well, I wasn't alone—Juhani came with me. Don't worry." She looked down at her feet bashfully. "I just couldn't wait, Wes. I'm sorry. I should've listened to you." Her shoulders sagged. "Not like it matters anymore."

My face softened as I tried to search Mission's deflated stance—like she had given up.

I sighed. "Well... fine." I rubbed the back of my head. "Look, the next time I'm hard on you like that, slap me."

Despite my joke, Mission didn't smile. Or even look up. "I went to the Czerka mines and asked around. Griff was captured by the Sand People when they attacked one of the mines. He's probably dead. I doubt that they'd...keep him, you know?"

The poor girl's eyes began to water again. I reached out and shook her shoulder causing her to glance up, eyes holding back tears. I returned her look with a soft smile.

"The Mission I know doesn't give up," I said. "If he's anything like his sister, he's a survivor. We'll find him."

She shook her head, trying to keep herself composed, lekku falling off her shoulders. "You don't know that for sure. It's not like you can just use the Force and see that he's alright."

"You don't need to use the Force to have hope, Mission," I said, retracting my hand. "We'll pay the Sand People a visit."

"But how?" she asked. "You need a hunter's license to go out in the desert. I asked. They're not handing them out to people anymore."

A smirk spread onto my face. "Oh, they'll give one to us."

I patted her shoulder as I finally made my way to the bridge. Bastila and Carth sat in their usual seats. The Jedi refused to look at me and the soldier grimaced at my hungover state.

I coughed. "So, before I almost exploded into a million pieces, I learned something...interesting."

I told them about the Krayt Dragon and neither of them seemed excited about the prospect of it. When I mentioned the Sand People and how only they would know where to find the Krayt, both sank into their seats further.

We really did have our work cut out for us. When I said this, Carth turned to face me.

"I don't think you're healthy enough to do any work, really."

I smirked. "I appreciate your wonderful concern, Carth, but some people work under worse conditions."

The soldier frowned. "You're kidding me."

"I'm kidding no one. I knew of a guy who lost an arm and still plowed through a smuggling run. That's what I call dedication."

Bastila finally paid attention to the conversation, twisting around in her seat, crossing her arms.

"You're staying here."

I rolled my eyes. "When did I get another mother?"

"This isn't up for debate. You are in no condition to go out there again. If and when we do run into that Sith assassin, you'll only strain—"

"Oh, so I'm the weakness in the group now, is that it?"

She blinked, confused. "Weakness? Of course not!"

"You don't have to worry about protecting me, sunshine. I've been through worse."

Despite jokingly winking at her, Bastila shot and rushed towards me. Pursing my lips, I went to take a step back but she raised her arm and tapped my side.

I hissed in pain then grabbed my side as if she had punched me there instead.

"What the hell was that for!"

She retracted, crossing her arms again. "It's obvious that you are not healthy enough to be going anywhere. You're staying here."

Then, with a flick of her pigtails, she walked off, out of the bridge.

I simmered for half a second before I noticed Carth. Damn the soldier to the depths of Korriban if he didn't stop smirking at me. He stood and holstered his two pistols.

"Sorry, Wes. You'll have to sit out on this one." He nodded out towards the cockpit windows. "Watch the ship, right?"

Heat rose into my injured head. If I had the curses to shout at him then, I would've said them. Instead, I said nothing as Carth sauntered past me.

Limping over into the pilot's seat, I leaned onto the armrest, the pain in my side drifting away finally. The three figures of Mission, Bastila, and Carth left the hanger—Bastila's hood raised to hide her face.

Damn them all. How were they going to get around Anchorhead without my help anyway? How were they going to get those licenses? They were making a big mistake leaving me behind. Czerka were like putty if handled correctly. How would Carth convince them to give us hunting licenses? Or Bastila? They'll only make things worse.

T3 rolled into the bridge while beeping a small concern. I winced as my hand accidentally buried into my cheek then snorted.

"Now the droid's acting like my mother," I muttered. "Who the hell programmed you anyway?"

T3 beeped a happy response.

"Janice. Right." I waved a hand. "Go back to what you were doing, T3."

T3 fritzed.

"What do you mean you can't?"

The droid beeped a few times. His master ordered him to watch over me.

I crossed my arms, eyeing the ceiling. Bastila thought that placing a droid as my watch hound could detract me from doing anything stupid? Really?

T3-M4 rolled up beside me near the copilot's chair. For an hour I stared out the windows, counting the amount of times the repair droid circled around the Hawk. Or, wait, were there two repair droids?

Zaalbar stood somewhere down near the ramp, watching over the port, making sure no Sith assassins made the attempt to attack us again. A few minutes into my watch, the ramp descended, making way for the Mandalorian. Wonder where he was going this time?

Soon after, Juhani came onto the bridge. "I heard from Bastila and the soldier." She passed the droid and sat behind the copilot's seat. "Are you alright?"

I huffed. "Why is everyone so damn concerned?"

"Of course we're concerned," she said. "You almost died. Why wouldn't we be?"

"Just stop worrying about me. It's a waste of time."

"Waste of time?" The Cathar grew quiet for a few minutes before she perked up again. "Of course it's not a waste of time. You're a greater Jedi than I. Strong in the Force. Wise beyond your years. Why are you always so hard on yourself, Gale?"

Great, here we go again. I twisted around to glare at her.

"I told you—"

"You're not a Master. I shouldn't trust what you say. I know. I don't care." She crossed her arms. "I think I know why I listened to you by that river. You reminded me of the reason why I joined the Jedi."

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

She sighed, lowering her yellow eyes. "The reasons go back a number of years. I used to live in the hind end of space. A pit of a world. We did not see Jedi very often, but we heard of them. Champions of truth, defenders of justice, heroes of the Republic. I was so enthralled by their image, their mystique."

"How did you end up joining the Jedi then?" I asked.

"They visited my planet, rescued it in fact. When I saw a Jedi for the first time, they lived up to everything that I had imagined them to be. And when I heard tales of their leader..."

"Wait, who were these Jedi?" I asked.

She smiled sadly. "The Revanchists." She glanced down at the floor again, fidgeting with her fingers. "You probably think I'm falling to the dark side again."

"Why would I think that?" I asked.

She sighed before looking up at me again. "Despite the...crimes they later committed, I always secretly looked up to them—what they accomplished and sacrificed. By that river, you...well, to put it bluntly, you reminded me of those Jedi."

I grimaced. "Not sure how I feel about being compared to fallen Jedi, really."

"N-No, you didn't remind me of Sith. You reminded me of the path that I took to become a Jedi. The Revanchists' sacrifices would've been for nothing if I continued down the dark path." She shook her head. "When you tried grabbing me from that river, I thought, 'How would those Jedi feel if I told them that the Cathar they saved years ago ended up turning into a self-loathing, power-hungry Sith?'"

I looked out view-port again. The Revanchists either became Sith themselves or died during the Mandalorian Wars. I doubted that they cared anymore about the people they saved years ago. I didn't tell the Cathar this, however. Didn't want to crush her revelation.

So, instead, I sighed. "You place high expectations on me," I said. "Honestly, I didn't even want to join this war. I'm not like those Jedi at all. I'm a selfish coward."

Juhani stood, loudly, causing me to glance over my shoulder. Her hands were in fists. "You may see yourself that way but I don't." She pointed at me, angry. "Please don't turn into another self-loathing Sith, Wes, or I will fall too."

She stomped out, leaving me yet again confused. That Cathar...why did she always get angry over the littlest of things? Perhaps it was something that I wasn't seeing.

Sitting back in the pilot's seat, I watched the port again—trying to put Juhani's words out of my mind.

The droids bounced past the window 456—no, wait, 457 times. Before I could continue counting, a shadow exited a ship that was beside ours. I jumped up, peering past the glass down at the dark thin figure wearing a hood. Was that another Sith assassin? The man, or woman, stopped before one of the Czerka agents. A dangerous double-sided vibroblade hung over their shoulder.

"Juha—!"

I stopped from shouting out for the Jedi, however. We were supposed to stay in the ship no matter what and inform the outside group first of any problems. But the Sith assassin was right there. If I didn't follow, they will disappear for good. Then what?

The shadow passed a credit chip over to the Czerka agent.

Bastila was going to kill me for this.

I rushed out of my chair, ignoring T3's alarmed beeps. The droid rushed into my leg, almost tripping me. I banked then glared down at the droid.

"I'll be right back, alright?"

I stepped over the droid, heading towards the dorms, grabbing my robe. Throwing the hood over to hide my face, I left towards the ramp, wincing from the heat and my wounds as I descended. Zaalbar growled as I passed him.

"Where are you going?"

I waved back. "I saw something. Don't worry, I'll be right back."

"Wait, what happened to staying on the ship?"

I ignored that protest as I pushed aside a few Czerka employees and weaved into the crowds of Anchorhead. Many heads blocked my view as I tried to find the dark figure again. Shoving away a large alien, I searched deep within the Force, trying to place the cold darkness I had sensed before.

And finding it was almost too easy.

I drifted towards the shady part of town, near the back alleyways where criminals—beside Czerka—cowered. Leftover gunk from broken trash compactors littered the side of the alleyways and small kreetles crawled through the gunk. The shadow made a right turn, so I rushed ahead, hoping not to lose the assassin.

A Gamorrean blocked the alleyway.

"Where do yah think you're going, human?"

I sensed many lifeforms circling around me. I glanced up. On the roof, a few Twi'leks and Rodians had their blasters trained below. Behind, more Gamorrean pigs crowded the alleyway. All of them held up cortosis spears and axes.

Kriff.

The first Gamorrean shuffled forward. "You're in our territory, little human. If you want to leave with your life, pay for protection."

Spit fell down like rain on my hood as the aliens laughed above me. Grimacing, I went for my lightsaber beneath my robes. The sound of blasters clacking caused me to freeze.

"Now, now. I'd think about that for a second, little human," he said. "You're surrounded. Ten against one. The odds aren't in your favor."

Damn. What he said was true. And I didn't have much of a chance—wounded as I was. Jedi or no. I raised my hands in surrender and the Gamorrean laughed at their success.

But—then—a blade pierced the pig from behind—cleaving cleanly through his stomach. The pig fell to his knees gurgling green fluids. His heavy body shook the ground as he collapsed.

Before I could react, the alien gangsters above shot at the Gamorrean's attacker—ignoring the person they tried to mug in the first place. Sneering in pain, I unleashed my lightsaber and cut the first Gamorrean that tried clubbing me from behind. The other gangsters cried out in fear.

"Jedi!"

I brushed off the axe of the second, burying the blade into the pig nose. Before I killed the last one—blaster bolts showered onto me. I deflected all of the bolts, fortunately, and—

Something collided into my injured side—a club. The last Gamorrean had taken advantage of my distraction. White shot my vision brighter than the blaster bolts and I fell to the ground, writhing in pain. The pig snorted slobbery laughs.

I expected either being shot or clobbered to death after that. Instead, I was greeted with terrified screams and the sound of falling bodies.

Then silence.

I coughed, wiping my mouth—blood. Did the damn pig break my ribs again? Grasping my lightsaber, I crawled to the side of the building, hefting myself up so that I could see my possible savior.

The dark figure held a blaster in their hands. A double-sided vibroblade stuck in the Gamorrean below. The shadow didn't lower the blaster as they stepped over the pig's body while taking the vibroblade and sheathing it onto their back.

Finally, the shadow moved towards me.

I pulled myself onto my feet and ignored the pain that stabbed my body. Once again, I ignited my lightsaber, going into a defensive stance. The shadow froze, holding the blaster with two hands.

A blaster?

Wait...if this person was a Sith assassin, why would he use vibroblades and blasters?

"Who are you and why are you following me?" she asked, a mask vibrating her voice.

I lowered my lightsaber by a centimeter and tried to peer past that dark hood of hers.

"Sorry, but I don't trust masked strangers. You understand."

The woman lowered the blaster briefly as she pulled back her hood, the black sheen of the mask daunting and cold. Yet familiar. Taking one hand, she pressed a button. The mask fell away, finally revealing a face. Her hair was pure white, face determined. An Echani? She raised the blaster again.

"I'll ask again—who are you and what do you want, Jedi?"

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm not exactly threatened by your blaster there," I said, nodding at my lightsaber.

"I've killed Force wielders before with this weapon. You aren't invincible."

Oh, so she killed Jedi before? Or Sith? I suppose she wasn't about to reveal her dark allegiances now, was she?

I smiled. "You can test that theory if you want."

Her white eyebrows raised, blaster wavering. "Now that's...not what a normal Jedi would say."

"Probably because I'm not a normal Jedi." I raised my lightsaber. "Now, you can tell me where you place your allegiances or you can carry out your worthless threat and get this fight over with."

The Echani hesitated, silver eyes glaring at me as she appeared to be thinking over my suggestion.

Then, without warning through the Force or otherwise, she shot with her blaster. I deflected the bolt into the side of the building, however, before I could go on the attack, the Echani disappeared into the alleyways.

I tried to run after her but my wounds protested under the pressure. Shit, kriff, shutta. This journey was all for nothing. That woman hadn't even been an assassin. Bastila was going to kill me if my wounds didn't.

Despite the failure of this adventure, I had a feeling I was going to run into that mysterious Echani again...

When I returned to the ship, Zaalbar ran up to me, demanding for me to tell him what happened. I sighed, holding my side.

"Just help me to the med bay," I wheezed.

The Wookiee shook his head in mild disbelief. "You are probably the craziest human I've ever run across."

I smirked. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

Especially recently...

The Wookiee helped me to the med bay where I treated myself with a medpack, peeling back my robes and applying the medicine directly onto the ugly bruise. I held back pained grunts, biting my lip.

Alright, that's the last time I ever went on my own adventures. It obviously didn't go well for me. Lesson learned.

Meanwhile, the Wookiee crossed his furry arms in disproval. After the pain subsided, I glared up at him.

"You are telling no one about this, you hear?"

Zaalbar growled, "You want me to lie?"

"Not lie. Keep quiet."

"That is a lie by omission."

"Kriffin'— just don't say anything."

The Wookiee shook his head, shoulders falling. "Alright, Wes, but only because of my life debt." He pointed a dangerous claw at me. "But if anyone asks, they'll know."

Zaalbar stomped off after that threat, leaving me in the med bay. I let the medpack work its magic and drifted off into a drugged sleep. I must have slept an hour—maybe two—before I awoke with a start.

T3.

My side was still in pain as I pushed myself up then limped to the bridge. As I passed the communication room, I spotted the droid there fiddling with the computers—switching between holochannels.

The damn droid was trying to call Bastila.

I stomped into the room. Before the droid had the chance to retreat, I switched him off.

"Not so fast."

His light dimmed and the droid plug retracted from the computer. Smiling, I knelt beside the droid and pulled him away from the wall.

I worked on T3 using a hydrospanner found in one of the storage bins. His behavior core was easy to access. I smirked as I created a few...personality traits. Call it revenge for making a droid babysit me. When I finished with that, I added another part of T3's programming to wipe his memory at my command.

I turned him on afterward in order to appreciate my fine work.

"T3," I said. "Forget the last thirty minutes and replace it with a loop of the hour I was here."

Beeping happily, the droid fritzed then went on his way to the bridge. Sighing in relief, I followed him despite wanting to go back to sleep in the med bay. Nothing happened while I was gone. A strange Echani woman saved my life? Please.

As the binary suns set, Mission, Carth, and Bastila returned to the ship. I glanced down at T3, worried that maybe I failed in my programming somehow. I pushed that feeling down as I sensed Bastila through our bond again and made for the ramp.

I crossed my arms as I met them at the garage.

"How'd it go?" I asked.

Bastila glared at me. "I sensed pain through the Force," she said "What happened?"

Kriff. Always I forgot that stupid bond.

I looked up. "I tripped over T3 when I tried going to the fresher." My smile grew. " Perhaps if someone trusted me..."

Bastila grew pale and she didn't respond. Instead, she marched past me into the garage towards the bridge. My smirk remained on my face as I watched her leave. She was in for a little surprise.

Mission peered up at me. "So...we got the hunting licenses."

"Really?" I paused, glancing towards Carth. They didn't exactly look... pleased about this development. "What's the catch?"

The soldier sighed as the ramp closed behind him. "We have to kill the Sand People chieftain for his gaffi stick and we have two weeks to do it."

The Sand People were brutal butchers—barbarians by any means. Normally I would have had no qualms about killing the lot of them, however, we needed both information and one of their prisoners. We would get neither if we went in there lightsabers blazing.

I smiled darkly. "Do any of you understand Sand People?"

Carth frowned. "That's what we were going to ask you."

So, we were stuck again. Without understanding the Sand People, we could never learn the location of the Star Map's cave.

Mission and Carth both left to get dinner. Before I followed them, however, Bastila stomped into the garage. I twisted and caught a fierce look that was—obviously—directed at me. A red spot throbbed on her forehead.

"Why is the droid tripping me?"

I looked away while covering a smirk with my hand. T3 rolled after Bastila—beeping something about being a loyal servant. The Jedi sputtered as the droid rammed into her heels.

I couldn't hold it back any longer. I took my hand off my mouth, laughing.

Bastila was not impressed.

"This isn't funny!"

T3 tried ramming into her heels again only for her to dodge. I held my sides as I laughed harder, rubbing away tears that began to form, mostly from the pain.

"Fix it," she ordered. "Now!"

I stifled my laughs as I responded. "Fix...what? It's an improvement."

"Improvement!" she shrieked. T3 went after her again, only for her to leap around the droid. "You are an evil, evil man!"

After a minute of Bastila trying to dodge the droid, I raised a hand, shaking my head.

"Alright, alright, T3 stop."

The droid stopped attacking the Jedi's heels then began humming a song as he rolled away. Bastila huffed, a piece of hair stuck in her mouth. Straightening her robe, she crossed her arms, chest puffing.

"What did you do?"

I shrugged. "I thought that my babysitter needed a better sense of humor. It was rather dull, you know, sitting in the bridge all day."

"You were supposed to watch for Sith."

"Zaalbar was already doing that."

"But you were supposed to do that too." She sighed, rubbing her face. "Just...fix the droid. Please?"

I nodded my head with a stretched smile. "Of course." Before the Jedi left, however, I frowned. "I didn't exactly...appreciate your little watchdog there. Do you really not trust me?"

She stopped. "I only did it because I was worried about you."

"What's there to worry about?" I asked.

"There's plenty to worry about with you." She twisted around to face me. "You are reckless, stubborn, impossibly disobedient— "

"Then what was the point of making T3 watch over me if that's the case? A droid couldn't stop me."

"Of course, of course. It's just..." She pursed her lips. "The thing is, I felt...well..."

I crossed my arms. "Go on."

She glanced away from my eyes as if I was judging her every word. "I felt responsible for what occurred between you and the Sith. If only I had gone after you instead of escaping the cantina as I had..."

Kriff. She was apologizing.

My heart dropped as she glanced up, genuinely ashamed of what occurred. I was an immature shutta, wasn't I? What good would hiding the truth from her be? I wasn't some teenager trying to hide my midnight trips out into the city. I was a Jedi. A Padawan.

She won. Why did she always win?

A second passed before I groaned.

"I left the ship."

She glanced up, confused. "Wha—?"

"I thought I saw a Sith assassin...but it turned out to be a stupid mistake."

However, instead of anger spreading on her face—as I expected—her face softened.

"You didn't trip over T3 then?"

I suspiciously looked at her. "Almost did but, as you've demonstrated, it's not hard to dodge him."

She sighed. "I suppose all of this is my fault."

"Your fault?" I raised an eyebrow. "What? I lied to you. Shouldn't you be, I don't know, mad at me?"

"Of course I'm not...mad at you," she said. "Yes, I'm upset that you didn't tell me about this at first...but you told me the truth anyway."

I rubbed the back of my head. "I...suppose so?"

This woman was so damn...confusing. I had expected an avalanche of lectures from her. The one to top them all. Perhaps Bastila wasn't as predictable as I first thought her to, unfairly, be. There was still so much to learn from her, despite denying that to Tatooine's moons. Maybe, at the end of it all, her forgiveness was all that I needed to see that to be true.

Bastila shoved a finger into my chest.

"You're still fixing the droid," she said.

My smile warped into a smirk. "You sure? T3's sense of humor has really grown on me."

"That's because it's your sense of humor."

"So you didn't laugh?"

"Why would I be laughing? It's terrible!"

"Terrible?" I frowned. "I suppose there's still some work to be done to melt that humorless heart of yours."

Instead of arguing back, she shoved past me towards the main foyer of the Hawk. Smiling, I stuffed my hands in my pockets.

Now, I would say that I eventually fixed T3. But that eventually could wait.

A few years.