P4-D1 “Padawan” began life as a standard P-series Class 2 mechanical assistant droid. His nickname was very much a joke, though it did fit his designated series number; as everyone KNOWS that a droid could never become a force user. Of course, Padawan himself never knew where his name came from, or that it WAS a joke.

He spent decades working on swoop bikes, speeders, and other mundane machines in the service of a Dug named Kairoh Sylvross. In his latter years, Kairoh was injured grievously and lost the use of both arms on his left side (one upper, one lower). With Padawan’s assistance, he managed to rig up and maintain serviceable mechanical replacements.

Padawan displayed great loyalty to and love for his master, and continued to refine his approach to ‘maintaining’ the cybernetic limbs, and implemented many upgrades for his master. Likewise, when Kairoh’s hearing went, he then trusted Padawan enough to allow the droid to craft and install cybernetic enhancements to allow him to continue to hear.

This continued on, with Padawan learning as much as he could about the Dug (and as an ancillary, several other species) anatomy and physiology, along with cybernetics, in addition to his basic knowledge of mechanics.

In the end, Kairoh had a massive organ failure not unlike a human’s heart attack; Padawan attempted to save his life and replace the various failed or failing organs with cybernetics – but he was unable to stop the inevitable death of his master. Padawan saw this as a failure on his part, and simply shut himself down, never intending to function again.

…

Some time later, he knows not how long, Padawan is reactivated.

He had been shut down so completely his chronometer circuits had been offline.

He was in a different location. This was not Kairoh’s shop. There were people nearby. Only three of them in his immediate vicinity. Others outside the small building.

There was combat of some kind in the near distance – though not distant enough. The people near him were talking in hushed tones.

“Can you get it online, padawan?”
“I think I just did, again… it’s like this droid doesn’t *want* to be activated.”
A third voice interjected, “You’re sure it can help, padawan?”
“Well, no – but it certainly has the right appendages. If there is hope, it lies with this droid.”

The use of his name sparked something. Though it sounded more like the others were talking to the one activating him, not to him directly. He decided to speak to them.

“I am online. Who are you? What do you want from me? Why do you call *her* by *my* name?”

This obviously startled the trio beyond anything they were prepared for. After a brief moment, the female next to him spoke up.

“Your name, it is Padawan?”
“Yes. I am P4-D1, mechanical assistant droid. My master calls me Padawan. Called. He died.”

The two men laughed, heartily, at this. The female seemed chagrined rather than amused.

“So you’re Padawan, huh? A padawan is someone who is training to be a Jedi. I am a padawan. We need your help. Our speeder has been destroyed. We have found another, but it is not operable. Can you make the repairs?”

Padawan quickly processed this, then for the first time surveyed his location. He was in a darkened building. It seemed long abandoned. Sitting not 3 meters from him was a speeder that was once a luxury unit. It would go very fast. It seemed to even be armored. But it was in obvious disrepair. It would require a lot of work to get it running, if he could. No other vehicles were in evidence.

“I can potentially repair this speeder. But it will take days, and parts. I have the impression you are lacking both.”

Both of the Jedi sighed heavily. One turned and silently stalked away. The other nodded to the girl, handed her something, and followed the first out of the darkened building. As he walked, he pulled out a lightsaber and activated it.

“Okay, Padawan. My name is Demde. You may actually live up to your name yet. I need to install something in you. Do you mind? While I hope it isn’t, this may well be the last chance to save the Jedi.”

“What do you wish to install? Who are the Jedi? Is that your species? You look like a Bith. I studied the anatomy of Bith. You look like a Bith. I’ve never heard of the Jedi. Why do they need to be saved?”

Padawan had never rambled before. But he sensed he was doing so now, and cut himself off. He was… nervous. He shouldn’t feel such a thing. But he did. Demde seemed to be projecting emotions into him. He didn’t think it was on purpose. Besides, who would think a droid could have emotions?

“These are holocron cubes. One contains the history of the Jedi order. The other contains much of our teachings, though of course not everything. Once I install these, you will know all about the Jedi. As much as anyone could possibly. As to why they need to be saved…” Here, Demde heaved a heavy sigh herself. “The emperor is to thank for that. He’s Sith. And he issued ‘Order 66’. They’re trying to wipe us all out. Every one of us. If they succeed, we need to know that this information is preserved. That some day, some one might start the Order anew.”

Padawan processed this. He opened the maintenance port on his torso, turned so Demde had better access to it, and in silence shut himself down once more.

…

Again, time had passed. This time, he knew how long. It had been just over twenty years since his encounter with the Jedi. Thinking the word brought an immeasurably vast amount of knowledge forth. She hadn’t just put the holocron cubes inside of him. She had somehow incorporated them into his heuristic processor. While he was sure they could be removed, for the moment Padawan was essentially a walking holocron cube. Two of them, in fact.

He took a moment to analyze his environment. He was in the same location. This was not Kairoh’s shop, though it bore some resemblance to it. Some other mechanic’s shop then. Someone had hoped to reactivate him and make use of his abilities.

It was then that he was flooded with grief. And self-recrimination. He was a droid. He wasn’t supposed to feel these things. Perhaps Demde had done more to alter him than simply installing the cubes. Or perhaps he had always had emotions, but been unable to recognize them for what they were. He had killed Kairoh. Not intentionally. But through failure.

After some time - seven minutes, forty two seconds, and 17 milliseconds, to be precise; though he wished he hadn’t been so perfectly accurate in knowing that, Padawan lumbered up and moved outside. The city was an abandoned husk. It was a dead city. At least, his immediate environment was. He had no idea where he was. But he could detect signs of movement, distant sounds of the everyday life of organics.

Too far to walk.

The speeder remained where it had been twenty years ago. It showed more signs of decay. To be expected. He moved around the shop. Looking at the available tools and parts. There was no way he could repair the speeder. But perhaps he could modify it. Or make something new from it. Or… modify himself…

It was then that it hit him.

Modify.

Himself.

If a Dug or a Bith or a Human could incorporate robotics, cybernetics into their body… why not a droid with organic parts incorporated? Maybe he could resurrect the Jedi order. Not simply by sharing information. But by doing. By being.

Why couldn’t droids tap into the Force? He knew so much about it now. It seemed that droids would be far more capable of handling it than others had been. Droids, who lacked the emotions which led to the dark side.


…or, did they? Had he not been overcome with grief just moments ago?


NO. That was illogical. Droids would be the most capable of using the force and resisting the dark side. Everything can be modified. Machines. Droids. Organics. He would find a way.


With this new inspiration, Padawan set forth with a renewed sense of purpose. He still felt guilt over the death of his master. And he felt remorse that the two Jedi, and their padawan Demde, were most certainly dead.

But he would do this. He would found a new Jedi Order. And it would include droids. Droids who can use the Force!