Revered and Reviled

Mission and Zaalbar decided to stay with the ship, while Canderous and Juhani took care of restocking supplies.
Patience listened idly while Bastila argued with the Tatooine docking officials over the fees, and wandered out into Anchorhead with T3, trying to wait for Carth and Bastila to catch up. The giant riding beasts and the tiny Jawas thrilled her, and she speedily lost her friends in the marketplace.
T3 burbled admonishingly at her, and she smiled, and tried to wait. Patience spun in a circle, watching the dull sand move beneath her feet. Suddenly she stopped. "Is that a swoop bike?" She ran towards the building to investigate, but stopped again, listening.
"There." The voice was dark and hearing it, she felt as if she had been dropped into a vat of icy acid. "Shan and her companions. Kill them all."
There were three of them, clad in long dark robes. The leader of the three stretched out his hand, and Patience barely had time to move before bolts of black lightning erupted from his fingers. She screamed in agony at the first touch, but succeeded in knocking down the mother and child who were standing between the Dark Jedi and Bastila.
"Run!" Patience shouted, and staggered back to her feet, trying to throw off the mind numbing pain. The marketplace erupted in screams, and the Dark Jedi drew their lightsabers. Patience looked around, at the panicked citizens running in fear, and she straightened herself to face the Dark Jedi.
"You intend to face us, mercenary?" hissed their leader. "Are you crazy?"
"Why does everyone ask me that?" Patience drew her lightsaber, and activated it. This was the first time she had drawn it since she finished changing the crystal color. She was expecting them to be surprised that the small woman before them in mercenary armor was a Jedi. She was not expecting them to draw back in shock.
"Who are you?" the Dark Jedi demanded.
"No, really, why does everyone ask me that?" Her body began to process the combat as they charged, without waiting from input from her mind. There were three of them, she shifted her form to deal with multiple opponents, using her lightsaber to block and intercept their dark energy. She felt keenly the lack of an off-hand weapon, even though her opponents were not at all skilled with the use of their lightsabers. They used their Force attacks freely, and Patience shook her head. They should have realized that it wouldn't work when she had survived the first attack, and switched tactics. She wondered what their teachers had expected, sending them out with insufficient training.
Her lightsaber flashed, and the first Dark Jedi fell to the sand, his body still and empty. The other two redoubled their attacks, trying to find a weak spot in her form, and she shifted styles again, bouncing their blows back at them.
"Who are you?" There was something like fear in the leader's voice, her arrogance shaken as her robes slipped back to reveal her face. The leader was about the same age as Bastila, but her hair was streaked with white and her eyes were a vicious yellow from her reliance on the Dark Side.
Patience grinned. "Honestly, I have no idea. You could surrender and we could talk about it," she offered.
The Dark Jedi growled in fury and threw another blast of dark energy at Patience. The bolt knocked her from her feet, but Patience quickly rolled with the blast and sprang back to her feet, shifting forms again to guard herself from another Force attack. She noticed the sounds of blaster fire behind her for the first time, and realized that Carth and Bastila were involved in a fight of their own. Patience gritted her teeth, and her eyes fell on the Dark Jedi lying on the sand. As quickly as thought, she dove forward and wrenched the fallen Jedi's lightsaber from his dead hands.
With a pleased smile, she activated the second lightsaber so that she finally had one in each hand. She didn't care about the color; she didn't mind the fact that it was a little unbalanced. Those things could be easily fixed. She settled into the proper form, and her mind began to sing a battle song as her hands spun the lightsabers slowly, testing the rhythm, the weight, the speed.
"What?" The Dark Jedi drew back again. "Who are you?"
"Stop asking me that and fight!" Patience jumped into the air, her lightsabers singing as she swung them down at the two Dark Jedi. They separated, thinking to weaken her attacks by flanking her, but they had never fought someone with her speed and skill before. Too late, they realized that by separating, they could no longer support each other with their Force attacks. Patience easily blocked their lightsaber attacks, and waited for one of them to make the Sith choice of attacking her with the Force regardless of their companion. The moment came soon enough, and she jumped again, spinning in midair so that she landed behind the one who had chosen to risk his companion's life, and cut him down while he was concentrating on manipulating the Force.
The last Dark Jedi charged while still weak from her companion's attack. Her blows were wild and random, and she fell almost immediately, wounded past saving. Blood spilled out over her robes, staining the desert sand.
"Why?" Patience gasped. "Why didn't you just surrender?"
"And admit that I have failed my Master?" She shook her head, and before Patience could do anything, the Dark Jedi breathed her last.
Carth grabbed Bastila's arm and dragged her into an alley.
"Carth! What are you doing?"
"I want answers. I want them now." His face was grim and set. "Who is she?"
"Carth, please," Bastila shook her head. "I – " she stared at the ground. "A Jedi's life is sacrifice, Carth. What sacrifice would you not make to stop the Sith? What would you not give for such a cause?"
Carth stared at her. "I don't understand."
Bastila swallowed nervously. "The Sith torture their prisoners. They go into the minds of their Jedi prisoners, trying to break them to the Dark Side, through fear and suffering." She looked up at him, trying to make him understand. "But that bond goes both ways. A Jedi of strength and bravery who was willing to take a great risk could learn much from such a bond." Her eyes fell again, and she sighed. "But the damage done was too great. She clung to me, as she was dying, trying to show me what she had learned, but something happened. A backlash of some sort, from the actions of the Sith.
"We are bonded," Bastila continued, "but she doesn't remember anything of the past at all. It's as if something, someone, stripped away everything that she had once been, leaving only a shell and some echoes. Even now," she looked helplessly back to Patience, who was putting her lightsabers away, "she remembers the actions, the words, she moves as a Jedi, but she knows nothing! We tried to help her as much as we could. At first, she seemed to have cut herself off from the Force, hiding somewhere within herself." She looked sadly at Carth again, and shook her head. "I don't understand what is happening any more than you do. The masters hoped that by following the echoes of the memories left in her mind, something would come back. It was a remote chance that her abilities would return, a slight possibility that her memories would return, but no one expected you."
"What do I have to do with anything?" he demanded.
Bastila shook her head again, not sure how to explain her fears. "The future is an echo of our current actions. Meeting you has changed everything, for her and for me. Carth, she sees a future with you that cannot be. Not while…." Bastila stopped herself. "I can't explain any more, I'm sorry. Only, if you find that you cannot love her, please… be kind. Do not hurt her any more than you must." Bastila gently pulled herself away, and walked to meet Patience, and deflect her questions.
Stunned, Carth watched Bastila walk away.
Patience didn't seem to realize how odd it was that she had killed three Dark Jedi by herself. Instead, she was busy helping people set their stalls to rights and making sure no one had been hurt. The mother and child that she had saved from the first attack tried to kiss her hands, but she laughed them away, and gave the little girl a fruit from a merchant's stall. She looked curiously at the weird, prickly fruit, peeled one herself and ate it.
"Oh! These are delicious! What are they?"
Bastila shook her head. "You have the attention span of a butterfly in heat," she admonished gently. "They're durawarr, they're from Dantooine. You've had them before."
"Oh, right, I didn't recognize them with the shell. Rind. Whatever this thing is," she tossed the fruit peel to a nearby ronto, and the beast greedily swallowed it whole. "These are what they make that jam out of, isn't it? They're wonderful." The grateful merchant handed her a bag of them, and promised to forward some to the ship. Patience laughed joyously. "See, Bastila, we do get repaid for good deeds! Where's Carth?"
Bastila looked around. "He was right behind us, oh, here he is." She held out a fruit to him. "They're quite good."
Carth forced himself to smile. "I'd rather have a naranja," he said, and the merchant handed him a bag of the orange fruits. "Thanks!" He peeled one and popped two slices in his mouth so he could make a face at Patience, and she nearly collapsed with laughter.
T3 came up, and questioned her. She bent over the droid, examining the damage he had taken in the firefight. "Yes, they were after Bastila," Patience answered.
"How did they know where to find you?" Carth wondered, but Bastila had no answer.
"We need to get some parts and stuff so I can fix T3."
A Jawa examined the damaged droid and chirped at her.
"What? No, I'm not selling." The Jawa burbled at her again, and Patience cut him off. "I don't care how much you're offering! I want parts. He's not for sale. And if you try and steal him, I'll come find you." There was more excited chirping from the Jawa.
"You understand that?" said Carth in shock.
"Mostly," said Patience. "Slow down, you're going too fast. Kidnapped? What?"
The Jawa tried again, but to Carth's ears it didn't sound any slower.
"Well, the Sand People shouldn't be allowed to do that."
Carth turned to Bastila. "Am I the only one who wonders if she's really having a conversation, or if she's just saying whatever comes into her head?" Patience and Bastila both turned and glared at him. "It's a legitimate question," he laughed. "Why is it you only understand the squeaky languages?"
"I do not!" Patience protested. "Oh, why do I talk to you?" She turned back to the Jawa. "I'll see what I can do," she promised. "And thanks!"
"What did you just commit us to?" Bastila demanded. "We're here on a mission."
"Yes, yes, your stupid Star Maps. Following in Revan's footsteps, blah blah. We need to talk to the Sand People, right? Padaziz says there's a droid shop at the other end of the town, with a protocol droid that can talk to them."
"You traded names already? Wait, how can you tell them apart?"
"I'm ignoring you. Bastila, can you take T3 back to the ship while we go to the shop? We'll meet you back there."
Bastila nodded, and led the little droid away, while Carth and Patience walked through Anchorhead in comfortable silence. They walked into the droid store, and the merchant, a nervous Ithorian, immediately welcomed them. Patience looked the protocol droid over. The model was unfamiliar to her, but he seemed to be in good shape. His red-gold metallic sheen was a little dulled, and he looked generally battered, but otherwise serviceable.
"Request: Please purchase me."
She looked in surprise at the droid. "I thought the merchant said you couldn't talk with the restraining bolt on."
"Clarification: I do not want to talk to the merchant with the restraining bolt on. Extrapolation: His incompetence with machines is equaled only by his cowardice."
Patience laughed. "Let me look you over. Looks like you've been shot at a bit."
"Declaration: My last master died in unfortunate circumstances involving a pazaak game and an unloaded blaster."
"Oooh," said Carth with false sympathy. "Cheating requires better planning. Why are you so eager to be purchased?"
"Correction: I am eager to be purchased by you. Observation: Your companions are all armed. Inference: You would be quite likely to make use of my unique talents."
Patience looked up from her inspection of the droid. "And what talents would those be?"
"Statement: I am an HK-47 Systech Corporation protocol droid, fluent in over 6000 organic communication patterns. Addendum: I am also possessed of a series of defensive combat protocols that you will, no doubt, find quite useful."
"Your memory core looks like it was damaged," Patience observed.
"Assertion: Indeed, it was."
"And your actuators are totally gone."
"Admiration: You have genuine skill with repair, far beyond the norm. Query: Have you considered purchasing a protocol droid today?" asked the droid hopefully.
Patience grinned. "Let me talk to the Ithorian."
They argued for a little while, before the Ithorian finally lowered the price to something they could afford, and Patience worked off the restraining bolt.
"Statement: Thank you, Master."
"What?" Patience looked up at the droid in surprise. "My name is Patience, you don't have to call me that."
"Correction: My core programming states that I do, indeed, have to address my current owner as Master. Clarification: It is not as onerous a task in this case as it usually is."
Patience sighed, and made a few more purchases from the Ithorian. She was running out of credits, and stared at a shield upgrade, trying to decide if it was worth the price. The Ithorian shook his fist at her, and stepped forward, trying to browbeat her into making her purchases and leaving.
"Hey," snapped Carth, but the droid was faster, and the Ithorian went flying head over hump.
"What? What did you just do?" asked Patience in shock.
"Observation: The cowardly herdbeast violated the distance protocol, Master," said HK grimly. "Explanation: Such an action activates my defensive protocols. Query: Would you like me to complete the task now? Extrapolation: We could recover all the credits we just spent, and you would have all the parts you desire."
"What? No!" exclaimed Patience, and ran over to help the Ithorian to his feet. "I'm so sorry. I think we're done now, come on, let's get out of here before he calls the authorities on us."
"Observation: If the herdbeast tries it, he would do well to remember that I am well acquainted with his sleeping patterns."
"HK! Will you stop threatening the poor man?" She hustled the angry droid out of the shop.
"You know what would be nice? If we could come across a droid that doesn't have any personality quirks. Is it just you?"
"Query: Master has another droid?"
"A little utility droid, you'll like him. He's nice."
"Assessment: The odds of that statement coming true have dropped rapidly."
"You've got a loose… hold still, let me just get this." Patience fixed a loose plate that she hadn't noticed before on the HK's chassis. "There. What were you saying?"
"Statement: Nothing, Master."
"Maybe if you didn't constantly fuss over them, they wouldn't all go crazy," muttered Carth.
The droid swiveled its rust-colored head to look at Carth, and its red eyes scanned him. "Observation: Symptoms include vocal stress, elevated heartrate, increased respiration, indicating emotional turmoil commonly identified with the term 'jealousy.' Query: Is this meatbag to be excluded from the distance protocols, Master?"
"What?" Carth exclaimed. "What did you just call me?"
Patience tried to form a sentence without giggling, but had to stop and lean against a wall to recover herself before she could speak. "Yes, HK, he's allowed to get close to me. The same is true for all our crewmembers. And please don't call him a meatbag."
"Clarification: I regret that I am unable to comply with your request, Master. Statement: My core programming defines all organic lifeforms as meatbags, and I have been programmed to use that term unless a more appropriate one is available."
"More appropriate?" snapped Carth. "Like what, calling the Ithorian a herdbeast?"
"Observation: The meatbag is more perceptive than I originally gave him credit for, Master."
Patience choked down her laughter as they walked back into the port. "Here's the ship." She led the droid into the Ebon Hawk's garage so that she could start fixing him.
"What's this?" asked Canderous, looking over the droid.
"It's an HK-47 protocol droid, so we can talk to the Sand People. HK, this is Canderous Ordo. He's part of the crew."
"Never seen that model," Canderous grunted.
"Statement: Protocols have been updated."
Patience looked at him in surprise. "Why are you suddenly being polite?"
"Observation: Ordo is a Mandalorian clan, and he is holding a fully customized Mandalorian heavy assault rifle. Clarification: My personality was designed to be abrasive, not suicidal."
Canderous chuckled. "Are you the reason flyboy looked like someone threw ronto droppings all over his next meal?"
"Statement: Your suggestion has merit."
"HK, do not torment Carth! And Canderous, stop encouraging him!"
"I like him," grinned Canderous. "More droids should have personalities like his."
"Canderous, go away. And why are you holding your gun anyway?"
"Oh, I was going to ask if you could do something about the trigger. It's a little sticky."
"Sure, leave it on the table," she said absently.
"Also, could you take a look at my armor? I found some new plates in the marketplace, but I don't know if they are compatible."
She nodded, but continued working on HK.
"Oh, look at that, she's ignoring everything I say again. I'm just going to leave all this on the table for you. If you want her to do anything complicated, now's the best time to ask her."
The droid looked curiously down at her. Something stirred in his damaged memory core. "Query: What did you say your name was, Master?"
"Patience Keçrye," she answered without pausing in her work.
"Observation: How interesting."
"What's so interesting about it?" she muttered as she worked out the damaged parts so that she could replace them.
"Observation: The surname is completely devoid of recognizable world markers."
She continued working in silence.
"Interpretation: I will not bring the subject up again, Master."
"You know, I've seen the Systech catalog. Your model isn't listed. They don't even have an H series."
"Observation: I have no more knowledge of my origin than you do, Master. Statement: Perhaps you will find more definite information in the course of your repairs."
"Probably," she murmured. "Whoever made you, they took a lot of pride in their work. And they did really good work."
The droid silently processed all the recent input that it had collected while Patience continued to work on repairs.
"What was that noise?" asked Carth. "Were you testing the droid's vocabulator or something?"
"What?" Patience looked up. "We were just talking."
"Observation: Master's memory core was damaged recently."
"Is it that obvious?" asked Carth.
"Statement: Master was completely unaware of what language she was speaking during our conversation. Observation: Master is remarkably fluent in an astonishing variety of alien languages."
"Yeah," Patience agreed, "but not Sand People, which is why I got you."
"Observation: Even if Master understood their language, she would be physically unable to reproduce the requisite sounds. Statement: Master's voice is too well modulated to successfully sound like a sandflea-ridden unwashed nomadic meatbag."
Patience frowned at the droid.
"See? I was right," grinned Carth. "You can only speak the squeaky languages."
"Carth!"
"Query: Would Master like me to chastise the impertinent meatbag?" HK asked hopefully.
"No!" Patience stood up. "Run a full diagnostic," she handed a datapad to the droid, "I'll come back for the results. You stay here, and do not harm anyone on the ship."
"Observation: I have not yet identified all the crewmembers. Correlation: This could result in an … unwanted … activation of my defensive protocols."
"I'll take you around in a few minutes," she promised.
"Maybe," Carth gently pushed her away from the worktable, "maybe you should take the crazy droid around to meet everyone before you start working."
"Observation: The impertinent meatbag seems to have his own defensive protocols for you, Master. Observation: Of course, they are not nearly as efficient as mine."
"Seriously, do you just make droids go crazy?"
Patience rolled her eyes and led HK around the ship, introducing the droid to everyone.
"That is the most annoying protocol droid I have ever met," Bastila snapped to Carth as soon as HK was out of earshot.
"He almost acts like a real person - whoever designed that droid really knew what they were doing." Carth grinned at Patience as she walked back to the main cabin. "You're done playing with your new toy?"
Patience sat down, and drank the rest of the beer in front of Carth. "Please, can we talk about something else now? I don't want to hear any more complaints about HK, or T3."
"What did that crazy little rust bucket do now?"
"I don't want to talk about it. Ask Mission."
Bastila shook her head, and went to go talk to the young Twi'lek.
Carth leaned over and picked Patience up.
"Hey! Actually, I'm not going to complain." She snuggled into his arms. "This seems like a good plan. I like it."
Carth laughed quietly, and walked to his cabin with her in his arms. He sat down on the bed, still holding her close.
She sighed in contentment. "You know, I never fixed the lights."
"You fell into my arms last time you tried. I wonder what would happen if you tried now."
Patience smiled at him. "I don't feel like getting up. Let's just skip to the kissing."
"Sounds good to me." Carth smiled at her. "Just one thing." He slid one hand into her hair, and laughed with her as he teased away the ribbon. She shook her head in mock despair, and her hair fell in dark waves over his hands. Carth pulled her to him, ran his hands through her soft hair, over her curves and her muscles. Her lips, incredibly soft against his; her hands, touching his neck, his chest; her soft moans of pleasure between kisses.
"Carth," she whispered passionately.
He kissed her once more, then pulled away slightly. "Patience, can I ask you a question? Or two?"
"Now?"
"Well, I'm hoping not to be interrupted this time. At least I got the important parts out of the way first."
She laughed. "True. Fine," she lay her head on his chest, "ask away."
"What do you think about Bastila?"
Patience looked up at him in surprise. "Bastila? I like her, she's nice. Nicer than I thought at first."
"You don't feel anything special about her?"
Patience shook her head. "If it weren't for those stupid shared visions, I wouldn't notice her particularly." She laughed. "Sometimes, when she's lecturing me about the Force and the Dark Side and the Jedi Code, she sounds so mixed up. I just want to shake her and correct her. She can be so naïve! I feel like she's the student, and I'm the Master." Patience shook her head. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to feel about her, though. I thought Jedi were supposed to travel with their Masters or something, but neither of us are Masters. We're both just Padawans, technically."
"Bastila's still a Padawan?" said Carth in surprise. "I didn't realize that."
Patience shrugged. "I don't know why they haven't promoted her. She's certainly skilled enough."
"Why are they sending two Padawans out on a crazy mission like this? Without any guidance?"
"Oh, don't complain. The last thing we need is some old bantha lecturing us every ten minutes on 'the ways of the Force.'"
"'They are dark and mysterious.'"
"'You must have faith in the Force!'"
They broke into guilty little giggles, and she quickly kissed him again. "So… is it question time?"
"Sure," Carth sighed. "It's only fair."
"Tell me about Saul."
Carth closed his eyes against the dark memory. "You've heard of Saul Karath. Everyone has. He was the hero of the Republic fleet, and helped win the Mandalorian Wars." He sighed, remembering the few precious days of peace. "And then Revan returned, at the head of an impossible Sith Armada. Everything began to fall apart. Whole battalions defected from the Republic. Rank and file, generals, heroes, they all left the Republic and turned to Revan. And Karath was one of them," he said bitterly.
"He was my friend!" Carth went on. "I trusted him! He tried to talk me into joining him, but I didn’t realize it at the time. I thought he was just talking. If only I had understood…. I could have stopped him! I could have stopped it all! But I didn't." Carth's head fell, and Patience stroked his face, waiting for him to continue. "I'm sorry if I act like I don't trust you sometimes. I can't help it. I want to help you with this mission, not drag you down."
"You are helping, Carth! I would never be able to do this without you."
He smiled sadly at her. "You would be just fine without me."
Patience shook her head. "I'd be a basket case! Either that, or I'd walk around quoting old masters all the time. 'Trust in the guidance of the Force!'" She made a face, and Carth laughed. She reached up and kissed him again. "I'm going to go play with the workbench again. Will you come rescue me before I pass out?" she asked playfully.
"Yes, Patience, I will save you."
She smiled gratefully, and kissed him once more before she ran off to alter the second lightsaber that she had recovered.