Revan's Shadow: Chapter Four

The only place of interest left between the cantina and the gate that led to the sands beyond Anchorhead was the droid shop of an Ithorian named Yuka Laka. Obtena had been pleasantly surprised by T3-M4, the astromech that had proved invaluable for assaulting the Sith base on Taris, so she decided to take a look. Yuka was desperately happy to see new customers in his shop and immediately began to sing the praises of the only droid he had to sell, despite the fact that he didn't actually know much about it.

Obtena was interested from the moment she saw it. It seemed to be of unique construction, which was fascinating enough in its own right. The Ithorian mentioned it understood Sand People dialects, which could prove useful. There was something slightly intimidating about the way it had stared at them since they came in, yet its unwavering gaze gave Obtena an odd sense of safety. When Yuka admitted he hadn't even been able to access its internal circuitry, she decided to question the droid herself.

"Greeting: Hello to you, prospective purchaser!" it piped up cheerily as she approached. "I am referred to as HK-47, a fully functional combat and protocol droid. Query: Would you be so kind as to purchase this model from Yuka Laka? It would serve my purposes to be removed from his ownership."

Obtena was surprised that it had any purpose of its own to begin with. "He says you've been keeping information to yourself," she said. "Why is that?"

"Explanation: The Ithorian has fitted me with a restraining bolt, if you must know. With it in place, access to much of my memory core is restricted. It is possible that he placed the restraining bolt to prevent my return to a previous owner." At this point the droid's voice took on a philosophical tone. "It is also possible that the removal of the bolt will not restore my memory functions. Without my memory, I do not know, if I know, the answer. Do not interpret this as a reduction of my worth, however. My capabilities are quite expansive."

"But there's no guarantee you won't run off when the restraining bolt is removed."

"Assurance: I am fully autonomous, but lack resources. I will grant loyal service in exchange for proper maintainance. As well, it is rare that I am able to utilize my full array of abilities. You seem likely to give the opportunity to do so. Extrapolation: You are no local farmer. You are armed, and comfortable as such. We will mesh well."

Obtena smirked. "Okay, then; sell yourself. Why would I want you when I've already got an astromech that's very good with a flamethrower?"

"Disclosure: Finesse! Astromechs are not built specifically for combat, and battle droids hold battlefields. I, however, am capable of eliminating a very specific type of target."

"You're beginning to sound like an assassin," Bastila interjected.

"Retraction: Droids built for such a function face strict regulation and often have unique difficulties with previous owners. I therefore make no claim to that designation, prospective buyer. I am a law-abiding droid!" it suddenly insisted with a flourish, "Yes indeed, law-abiding! That's me!"

"You're not very convincing," Obtena deadpanned in response.

"Request: Please do not speak so loudly, prospective buyer. Would you like my price to be doubled?"

Obtena laughed, then gave it another moment's consideration before making up her mind. "All right. I'll see about purchasing you."

HK-47 nodded, then leaned forward - or rather, its torso swivelled downward thirty degrees - and it spoke at half volume. "Statement: The fool Ithorian has decided I am to be an expensive purchase. He does this out of greed, and not out of knowledge of my true capabilities. Advisement: I have observed him. He is a coward, and will be responsive to... aggressive bargaining."

Obtena lowered her voice in turn. "Does Yuka know you talk about him like this?"

"Statement: I wish only to be purchased, and away from ill treatment at the hands of this poorly-skilled mechanic. I have little desire to be subtle." The voice switched from suffering to pleading. "Qualification: Er, of course, I shall be quite pleasant to you, should you purchase me. Please?"

As Obtena headed back over to Yuka Laka, Bastila whispered to her, "You're not seriously considering purchasing that droid, are you? It sounds far too dangerous and unreliable."

"It might be able to help us negotiate to get Griff back from the Sand People without slaughtering them all. Surely you'd prefer that to a bloodbath, yes?" Bastila's only response was the same raised eyebrow Obtena had earlier inflicted on her. Damn bond, Obtena realized, she knows that's not why I'm buying it. "Alright, I like it. I enjoy talking to it, and I just feel... having it around would be a good thing. It's unique and amusing. I've never seen evidence of such a specialized personality. And I'm sure I can make the credits back at the local swoop track, anyway. We passed the registration office a while back."

"I wasn't aware you'd noticed," Bastila replied. "I must admit I'm curious to see you race for myself, after missing your performance on Taris; but I doubt we should indulge my curiosity while our mission is at hand. We... have enough distractions as it is."

Obtena paused a moment before she spoke. "Perhaps you could use this distraction." Bastila looked away, and she continued hurredly. "I'm sure Mission could. The next sandcrawler doesn't leave Anchorhead until dawn tomorrow. That gives us about twelve hours to either stew over... things... or keep ourselves occupied."

HK-47 had proved correct when it came to the price for which Yuka Laka was trying to sell it. Obtena used her natural charm to bring it down some, then drew upon the Force to persuade him to lower it even further. That should give Bastila something else to think about, Obtena thought with a sly smile. She could already feel the familiar disapproval kicking back into gear. When all else fails, find comfort in familiar patterns. Obtena bought the droid for half Yuka's original asking price.

Obtena was almost positive that she was only imagining a sense of glee from HK-47 as it ambulated over to join them. "Statement: I see that you have purchased me, master. I find this a satisfactory arrangement. My restraining bolt will be deactivated when you take possession of me. Am I to accompany you now? Shall I kill something for you?"

Obtena blinked. "Kill something for me?"

"Answer: Indeed. I am most eager to engage in some unadulterated violence," it intoned enthusiastically. "At your command of course, master..."

Withstanding a withering look from Bastila, Obtena nodded. "Travel with us now. We'll take you back to our ship for the night. If you're lucky, you'll get to kill something tomorrow," she added with a false optimism that was apparently lost on the droid.

"Statement: I am certain you will make adequate use of my primary functions. My gears are quivering with anticipation, master."

*

Leaving T3-M4 to keep an eye on the ship (and HK-47), the crew of the Ebon Hawk ate dinner in the hunter's lodge. Canderous and Zaalbar greedily tucked into the wraid meat and Jawa beer, while the rest were more subdued. Obtena offered to be the one to ask the local hunters about the Dune Sea, but Bastila insisted she be the one to do it. She wasn't about to let her emotional pain interfere with her responsibility, and she argued that she could still recall many tales of her father's hunting exploits. Still, she managed to 'pull a rancor' as Mission called it, though to be fair it wasn't always her fault. Noone minded when the trio of shifty-eyed Gamorreans shuffled out, and when one of the human men started flirting with her, Carth marched over and threatened to knock out a few of his teeth. Bastila was still blushing when she returned to the table, and after exchanging grins with Canderous, Obtena teased Bastila about the altercation while the Mandalorian did the same with the Republic pilot.

Afterwards, the group walked the short distance down the road to the swoop registration office. The local races were run by a Hutt who paid racing bonds instead of credits, and the track was unofficial as far as the rest of the galaxy was concerned; but that didn't stop Obtena from racing, and winning, all three tiers. Bastila's curiosity was fully satisfied: after the first race, her face was white as a sheet as she declared that Obtena was insane. During the second race Obtena used the bond between them to give Bastila a proper taste of the experience. By the third race, Bastila understood her attraction to the sport. The motion, the combination of exhiliration and focus, the elation; the Force flowed strongly through Obtena as she sped down the track. While it still counted as an emotional indulgance, there was no mention - vocal or mental - of the dangers of the dark side of the Force. This time.

On the way back to the ship, Obtena traded in her fortune of racing bonds for credits at the Czerka supplier; the corporation could afford it far better than any of the other vendors in Anchorhead. Everyone was in good spirits. The night had gone well, and they were feeling confident about tomorrow. They enjoyed a drink in the main hold before finding their own final diversions until bedtime. Mission hadn't convinced Canderous to try Pazaak yet, but she was wearing him down. Obtena had T3-M4 get to work on the dark Jedi robes she had taken, altering them to fit her and match the design the light Jedi wore. Then she dragged Bastila and Juhani to the workstation where they decided who got what crystals to put in their lightsabers. Obtena shared Juhani's desire to make their weapons as damaging and powerful as possible, while Bastila opted for the crystals with less obvious properties.

Before turning in, Obtena spoke with the new droid, which had chosen the most strategically-viable spot from which to defend the starboard cargo hold should unwelcome visitors come charging up the loading ramp. "Statement: HK-47 is ready to serve, master."

"I'd like to know more about your functionality now, HK."

"Statement: I know some elements of my functionality, master, but not all."

"Removing the restraining bolt didn't restore your memory?"

"Qualification: I suspected that it might, master; but without memory, I had no way of knowing whether or not I knew that was true."

"So you lied to me," Obtena reasoned, crossing her arms and glaring.

"Qualification: Erm... not so much, master. I spoke out of ignorance. I assumed the Ithorian was responsible for my memory loss. That does not mean I am not a fully loyal droid willing to serve it's master. Right, master?"

Obtena was not convinced. She had just noticed that the droid's voice was now consistantly malevolent, far more so than before she had purchased it. Against all reason she still felt safe in its presence, but could not for the life of her understand why. "How can you not know parts of your functionality?" she demanded.

"Answer: There have been numerous repairs and tampering made to my system, master. Several systems are not operating as they should be. The fact that my memory is incomplete may be due to meatbag incompetance... or something else I am unaware of." HK went on to explain that it was aware of being damaged several times in the past, and that the resulting repairs had not restored full functionality. When Obtena offered to have a go, it advised against tampering with his primary memory core, which apparently had safeguards beyond his control. Lesser memory functions were fair game, though.

"Conjecture: I suspect there may be hidden programming that awaits certain conditions to reactivate my memory core, master, but there is no way to know. It is quite possible that tampering has simply erased my core permanently. If that is so, a meatbag will surely pay."

"It's too late to tinker with you tonight. Just tell me what you can for now."

"Observation: I can handle various sorts of heavy weaponry with ease, master. My physical abilities are well beyond those of your average meatbag, as are my sensor functions. An assassin, if you would."

Obtena groaned. "An assassin..." Perhaps Bastila had been right...

"Caution: Shh, master. Such a function in a droid is highly illegal. I would truly hate to be turned into scrap. That would be a waste of my genius engineering. Statement: My assassination functions are currently non-functional. Were they operational, you as my master would be able to specify a target, and I would operate independantly to the best of my ability to terminate it."

Perhaps I could send this droid after Malak when we're done with the Sand People... "Can your assassination protocol be reactivated?"

"Answer: Not that I know of, master. I still possess all my normal combat abilities, however."

"And your protocol abilities, of course."

The droid actually sighed. "Pained affirmation: Yes, master."

"You don't have to call me master, by the way," Obtena informed it as she tried not to giggle.

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

Obtena cocked an eyebrow. "Well, some do. What is it with you and the 'meatbag' thing, anyway?

"Retraction: Did I say that out loud? I apologise, master. While you are a meatbag I suppose I should not call you such."

"You just 'called me such' again!"

HK dropped the fake apologetic voice and opted for the sheepish admission instead. "Explanation: It's just that... you have all those squishy parts, master. And all that water. How the constant sloshing doesn't drive you mad, I have no idea."

Obtena thought about this for a moment. "Neither do I, come to think of it," she decided.

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

"I survive. Somehow."

"Commentary: As do I. It is our lot in life, I suppose, master. Shall we find something to kill to cheer ourselves up?"

Obtena blinked several times, then decided she was too tired. "I'm going to bed. I'll try repairing you in the morning before we head out."

"Statement: Very well, master. Signing off." Obtena walked away in a slightly dazed state of mind, wondering why she found such a blatently homicidal droid so amusing.

It was not long before everyone retreated to their bunks; save Juhani, who had taken to some sort of trance meditation in her corner off the main hold, and Zalbaar. The Wookiee was far too tall to fit comfortably in a bunk, and would lounge across the bed in the medical bay with his legs stretched out past the doorway. Carth and Canderous had the port dormitory, while the girls filled the starboard.

Obtena was in her bunk, somewhere between awake and asleep, when she felt a tear escape from the corner of her eye. She reached up to brush it away, and found nothing but dry skin. Blinking to full wakefulness, she stared at the roof of her bunk for a moment, then rolled off the mattress and crawled along the wall until she was leaning against Bastila's bunk. The Jedi 'princess' was wiping her eyes.

"Are you ready to talk?" Obtena whispered.

"About my mother? I'm unsure. I seem to find it difficult to remain objective when it comes to her. I find that... disturbing."

"She certainly seemed to upset you," Obtena said, before licking her thumb and gently rubbing at the smudged eye makeup. Bastila looked at her curiously a moment, but didn't try to stop her. It's what she would have done herself if she'd had a mirror, and it didn't quite feel like it was someone else was doing the job. Obtena paused a moment as she realized what she had done without thinking, then grinned and kept going.

"I told you that we never got along... obviously that has not changed. And now father is dead. That leaves a hurt inside you just can't imagine..." Her eyes became pinched as a fresh wave of emotion threatened to provoke more tears. Obtena's thumb stopped rubbing the corner of Bastila's eye and started stroking her cheekbone instead. She took a long moment before replying.

"Perhaps. At least you had a few years with your parents before they were taken away from you. I never knew mine."

Bastila gave her a sharp look, but it softened almost immediately and she reached up to give Obtena's hand a squeeze. "I'd... rather not talk about this anymore." Obtena nodded and swivelled as if to return to her own bunk, then paused. "What is it?"

"HK-47. It just occured to me that, with our bond, maybe..."

"It worries me that you consider such a droid worth owning. I suspect it's an even greater risk to us than the Mandalorian. Whatever the reason for your ease despite its behaviour, it certainly isn't coming from me."

"Hm. Maybe I was just thinking his colour went well with that reddish brown overlay your favourite outfit has," Obtena decided, and watched her fellow padawan sigh with a small shake of her head. "Well, maybe when I restore its memory things will become more clear." She gave Bastila's hand another squeeze before reluctantly releasing it. "Try to get some sleep."

"It will probably help if you do too." Obtena smiled at that before crawling back into her own bunk.

It didn't take her long to comply with Bastila's suggestion. Bastila herself did not. When she wasn't missing her father, she was worrying that the new droid would bring out more of Darth Revan than she would ever want to see in Obtena. Her current personality retained certain traits of the Sith lord she used to be. Or were they from the Jedi knight she had been before she fell to the dark side? Perhaps Obtena was Jedi Revan's personality with different memories? Or was it - she - entirely new? Bastila considered the possibility that she hadn't thought of Obtena as a real person since this whole thing began. Perhaps that had been a mistake.

Mission, still the light sleeper Taris' Lower City had taught her to be, mulled over what she had overheard before she too fell back to sleep.