Part 4:
Daybreak, and Jaka woke up startled! He didn't mean to fall asleep. How was our patient doing? Still shut down. Oh well, Jaka didn't want a droid anyway. He got up, gathered his stuff, and decided this whole droid-rescue thing was stupid. It was time to go home. But something kept stirring in his heart. He never had anyone or anything to take care of, no family, no kids, no pets. Well, if this droid doesn't work out then no big loss. After all, there were too many droids for Jaka's taste running around on Tatooine. Then the droid squeaked and wiggled.
Jaka never felt overjoy before, but this new feeling was so overwhelming he cried. You're alive! You're alright! It's going to be OK! OK, Ok, now to get the canvas.... Jaka took his inner tunic off and loveling wrapped it around the droid as if to protect a child. Yeah, a child, that's it, this will be my child. Funny, I don't have any children, but this seems right. This is my child that I'll nurture and teach somehow. I'll be back my lovely child...
Jaka went to the camp. The patrollers were still there, munching on what looked like rotten flesh. He had woken up hungry but seeing this made him less wanting for breakfast. The sounds of bantha footsteps were clear now. Jaka could barely make out the two banthas in line with eacth other. The raider on top of the first bantha raised a long gaffy stick glinting in the extreme sunlight of the desert. The patrollers answered by raising theirs, then gathered their belongings, walked toward the two banthas and hopped on. At last they were gone. Jaka waited patiently for the banthas to go out of sight, then quickly he took the canvas and disappeared into the morning shadows of the ravine.
It was about mid-morning when Jaka finished the stretcher. He gently put the droid on it, tied it down so it wouldn't roll over, put the tunic cover back on it to protect it from the sun, and started for home. It took a few hours of heavy lugging through the extreme heat, but Jaka finally made it back to his tent where he left the rest of the junk. After pushing everything to one side of the tent, he made a little bed for the droid. This was Jaka's first droid and didn't know that droids slept on their feet with a power coupler on. Making the droid as comfortable as possible he began to clean it up with what little precious water he had in the little bottle. The droid was painted all black, a symbol of Imperialism, with beige panels and utility arms. It had been dented and had several broken parts. This droid had obviously been through a bad crash indeed. On the bottom was the small letter-stamp that identified it. R2-X8.
Exate sat quietly while Jaka attempted to clean him up. This poor little creature is sure trying, but I don't think he's been around a droid before, it thought. I need oil, not water. Exate slowly gained his conscience again, trying to remember the crash. Something about his ship blowing up and he fell, fell, fell to the drab sandy planet. But which planet? Not knowing where he was bothered Exate. He didn't know why, but it did. So, since he couldn't remember much, and this creature was trying to help, and there wasn't much else to do, Exate laid back quietly on the lumpy bed and tried to relax. He needed to remember, that was important. And to do that, he needed to heal.
