My galactic adventure from far far away

Jktorres.55 · Mar 6, 2025

Jake's P.O.V. :

The realization hit me like a gut punch as I ducked behind cover, sweat dripping down my face. The reason we had been able to one-shot most of the IG assassin droids earlier wasn't just luck or precision—it was the mods I'd done to our weapons. That thought simmered as I tried to focus on the present. My tinkering had turned standard blasters into something capable of punching through high-end armor. And now? My EMP machine had wrecked that very advantage.

Talk about shooting myself in the foot.

I peeked over the edge of cover, letting off a few quick bursts from my gauntlet blaster. The IG droids were still advancing, their deadly precision forcing us to move constantly. We couldn't seem to take them down as efficiently anymore. My upgrades, my proud handiwork, were malfunctioning. And worse, with the state of our gear, I dreaded the idea of firing off another EMP burst. If it came to that, our already fragile equipment would probably end up as junk.

A gasp of pain tore through the noise of blaster fire, and I turned to see Mira leaning against the cavern wall. Smoke rose from her left arm, and I spotted her personal shield emitter lying at her feet, sparking and useless.

"I'm fine!" she barked, waving me off as I started toward her. Her voice was strained, but she kept her focus. "Shield emitter's toast, but I'm still standing."

She was trying to downplay it, but losing her shield in the middle of this mess was a big deal. I clenched my teeth, forcing myself to focus.

Then came the sound I'd been waiting for—the beeping from the EMP machine signaling it was ready to fire again. Without hesitation, I slammed the activation switch, sending out another burst.

This time, the results were better. Much better. Sparks erupted from several of the droids, and a few even exploded outright. Their faulty cloaking tech flickered out completely, leaving their forms exposed. The tide of the fight shifted.

But I'd made a critical error—I hadn't warned the others. I'd hoped the beeping would clue them in, but with the chaos of battle, the sound had been drowned out by the relentless blaster fire.

The EMP wave did its job on the droids, but it also did its job on us. Our personal shields overloaded, each one sparking and sizzling before shutting down completely. That final EMP burst fried them for good. And the upgraded combat mods I'd painstakingly installed? Scrap metal now. The only surprise was that our blasters weren't entirely ruined, just weakened. Either their output was lower, or their accuracy was shot.

Still, we seized the opportunity. The IG droids, now fully visible and staggering under the effects of the EMP, became easy targets. We poured what was left of our firepower into them, taking them down one by one.

When the last of them hit the ground, silence fell over the cavern. The absence of blaster fire was deafening.

Arlos slumped to the ground, his breathing ragged. He looked exhausted but relieved. "No more... right?" he murmured, as though speaking the words aloud might summon reinforcements.

I didn't answer. I didn't want to answer. Instead, I cast a glance around the group.

Kado was crouched next to Mira, inspecting her arm where the shield emitter had been. She waved him off, clearly trying to downplay her injury, but I could see the fatigue etched on her face.

Rina was still hunched over the panel, slicing into the system with singular focus. She'd discarded her now-useless electronic gear and was relying solely on her non-digital tools. Her determination to dig into the secrets of this place was impressive, even as the rest of us tried to catch our breath.

Davik was still standing, tense, his blaster at the ready. His eyes darted around the cavern as though expecting another wave of droids. I couldn't blame him for being paranoid. We'd barely survived this ambush. If there were more droids, we'd be toast.

I leaned against a piece of cover, letting out a heavy sigh. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving me with a gnawing sense of regret. Our victory had come at a steep cost. Skew-02 was a wreck, our shields were gone, and the gear I'd spent months perfecting was now just scrap.

"If those droids' weapons had a shorter cooldown..." I muttered to myself, shuddering at the thought. The IG assassin droids had been relentless, but their long shot intervals had been the only thing keeping us alive. If not for that design flaw, we'd have been dead the moment they ambushed us.

I glanced at the EMP machine. It had done its job, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd failed. If I'd invested more time in reinforcing the EMP shielding...

"Jake," Davik's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "You okay?"

I nodded absently. "Yeah... just thinking about how close we cut it."

"Close is better than the alternative," he said with a grim smile.

He wasn't wrong. But as I looked at the damage around us, I couldn't help but wonder how much longer we could hold out if this place threw more surprises our way.

Jake's P.O.V. :

Skew-02 was almost a total wreck. And when I say "almost," it's because, somehow, I could still see him functioning. Barely. His right arm twitched as if trying to lift a nonexistent weapon, and sparks sputtered from the remains of his left leg, which hung uselessly. His left arm? Gone—completely obliterated in the chaos. His central chassis, however, was holding together, and his optics flickered, scanning his surroundings despite the damage.

That durability was both impressive and a testament to the upgrades I'd added to his chassis before this mission to the Vault. The reinforced plating, the reinforced servos—all the little tweaks I'd made—it was paying off now.

"Still kicking, huh, buddy?" I murmured as I knelt beside him.

He let out a low, garbled warble—his vocal systems were clearly shot too.

Meanwhile, I ordered Skew-01 to guard Rina. She was still working on slicing into the panel, her brow furrowed in concentration as though nothing else existed around her. The Nick droids I sent out to patrol, a precaution just in case Davik's paranoia turned out to be well-founded. Normally, I'd laugh off his tension, but right now? I couldn't afford to.

Focusing on Skew-02, I quickly assessed the damage. His internal systems were a mess, circuits burned out, actuators fried. It was more extensive than anything Skew-01 had suffered before. Yet...he was still functional. Maybe it was because of the upgrades, or maybe this droid just refused to quit. Either way, I felt a flicker of pride—and frustration.

With a sigh, I straightened up. After a while of poking through my repair kit and available materials, I came to a grim conclusion: I wasn't going to get Skew-02 back to functional status with what I had on hand. At best, I could stabilize him and maybe jury-rig something to keep him powered. But fully repairing him? That would have to wait until we were out of this nightmare.

The other droids hadn't fared much better. Sure, their personal energy shields had kept them from being completely obliterated, but those shields were now useless, burnt out like ours. And the materials I'd brought with me weren't enough to rig new ones—not for us, and certainly not for them.

What I could do, however, was focus on our gear. The EMP bursts had fried a lot of our systems, and while our weapons were still operational, their performance had taken a noticeable hit. The power output was lower, and accuracy had suffered.

I hunkered down and got to work. Piece by piece, I dismantled, repaired, and reassembled our blasters. The damage was reversible, but only to a degree. I managed to restore their power output and recalibrate the targeting systems, but the upgrades I'd painstakingly added? They were gone, stripped away by the EMP like they were never there.

"Guess we're back to basics," I muttered bitterly as I snapped the casing back onto my blaster.

At least organics didn't take a hit from EMP bursts. That was the one silver lining in this whole mess. We didn't have to worry about our nerves getting fried or losing motor functions. Unfortunately, the droids didn't have that luxury, and Skew-02 was the perfect example of how close we'd cut it.

I glanced around the cavern. Rina was still at it with the panel, oblivious to the world. Kado was keeping a close eye on Mira, though she looked annoyed at his concern, insisting she was fine. Davik, blaster at the ready, was scanning every shadow like the walls might come alive and attack us.

And me? I was here, patching together the scraps of what was left of my tech, hoping it would be enough to keep us alive.

Rina's P.O.V. :

The gibberish that greeted me the first time I sliced into this panel was finally starting to make sense. The effort required to break through was no different from other systems I'd tackled before, but the complexity of the encryption was irritating enough to make me mutter a few choice words under my breath. By the time I heard Jake activate his EMP machine, I was already done with my electronics gear—thankfully, because he still owes me for frying it.

The data I pulled wasn't straightforward. It was both a report log and a journal combined, written in a cipher that made my head ache. From what I could piece together so far, the pedestal room—the fourth storage room—was apparently the original entrance to this place. And the cavern we were in right now? That was the Vault.

The Old Republic Jedi, with support from the Senate of the time, had the extra storage rooms built to disguise the actual entrance. The logic was obvious—throw scavengers and lucky raiders off the trail with decoy rooms filled with relics and traps. Clever enough, though clearly not clever enough to stop someone like me.

I smirked to myself at that thought. Finding the entrance might have taken some effort, but slicing through layers of misdirection and obstacles was my specialty.

Then my smirk faded as I glanced at the pedestal in the room with us. This one was different. It had risen from the ground not too far from where I was working, and I'd intended to examine it after finishing the decryption. Unfortunately, I hadn't yet finished reading the data when the pedestal decided to rise on its own.

My head snapped up, and my focus immediately shifted to the pedestal, ignoring the half-decrypted logs on my screen.

The pedestal wasn't like the one we'd seen before. Instead of a simple platform, this one resembled a sliding lockbox. Panels shifted mechanically, and a compartment slowly revealed itself, dark and unassuming.

"Oh," I said flatly, deadpan. The pedestal hadn't risen on its own after all. Of course not. Jake had been fiddling with it.

Was no one watching to stop Jake?

My irritation flared. It wasn't the first time Jake's curiosity had led us to some new complication—or discovery, depending on your perspective. It was a miracle we'd survived half the messes his tinkering had caused, but then again, it was also the reason we'd found this Vault in the first place. Still, a little caution wouldn't kill him.

I walked over to inspect the now-revealed lockbox, careful not to touch anything yet. It looked like it needed a passcode to open, which made me glance back at my screen. If this place followed the same patterns as the rest of the Vault, the passcode would be buried somewhere in the data I was decrypting.

Great. Now I had to deal with a puzzle while my attention was divided. Jake's EMP escapades had left us vulnerable, Davik was still tense like we were seconds away from another attack, and I was just trying to do my job.

Still, as much as I wanted to glare at Jake, I couldn't entirely fault him. If the pedestal's lockbox contained something important, it could make all of this worth it. I just hoped we wouldn't find out the hard way what the price of poking at everything might be.

I sighed and returned to my work, focusing on the data while keeping the pedestal in my peripheral vision. The answers were there. It was just a matter of finding them before the next crisis hit.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

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Jktorres.55 · Mar 7, 2025

MULTI POV CHAPTER

Rina's P.O.V. :

I continued reading the decrypted data logs, occasionally sparing a glare at Jake. I couldn't help it. The nerve of him fiddling with the pedestal like that! Although, in hindsight, I had done the exact same thing with the first pedestal. Hypocritical? Absolutely. But back then, we didn't have cloaked assassin droids trying to kill us.

Who am I kidding? I'm not mad because of the danger—it's because Jake beat me to it. That realization soured my mood even further, but I shoved it aside and focused on the logs.

The entries revealed more than I'd hoped to find, piecing together the story behind this Vault. And what a story it was.

This wasn't the "treasure-kind" of vault. Despite the shiny trinkets we hauled out of the upper levels, those were just distractions. A decoy. The real purpose of this place was far more ominous.

It was a prison.

The pedestal in front of us wasn't some grand control panel or repository for secrets. No, it was a door knob—literally the key to opening the prison. The IG droids we'd fought weren't just here to protect valuable artifacts; they were prison guards, tasked with ensuring that whatever was locked away stayed locked away.

I felt my breath catch as I absorbed this revelation, my mind racing through the implications. The Jedi and the Senate of the Old Republic had gone to extraordinary lengths to secure this place. That begged the question: What was so dangerous that it required an entire facility to contain it?

By the time I realized I was holding my breath, I was lightheaded. I exhaled sharply, shaking myself out of my trance, and turned toward the pedestal.

"Jake, don't touch anything—"

The words died in my throat.

Jake wasn't alone. Kado, Mira, and Davik were standing by the pedestal as well, all of them looking at it with various degrees of curiosity. Gears were moving, and the faint sound of mechanisms unlocking filled the room.

"No, no, no, no!" I muttered under my breath, panic rising.

It was too late.

Belatedly, I noticed Arlos standing beside me, a quiet sentinel. I hadn't even registered his presence until now. He was positioned like a bodyguard, keeping an eye on me while the others unwittingly unleashed whatever nightmare the Vault was built to contain.

I glanced back at the pedestal. The metaphorical lock had been turned, and the process of opening—whatever it was—had begun.

"Do you have any idea what you've just done?" I snapped, my voice breaking the tense silence.

Jake turned to me, his face a mix of guilt and defensiveness. "I thought—"

"That's the problem! You thought!"

The sound of gears grinding grew louder, accompanied by a deep, echoing thud from somewhere beneath our feet. The pedestal's lockbox began to retract, its panels sliding back to reveal something hidden inside.

I clenched my fists, dread pooling in my stomach. Whatever was in that Vault wasn't meant to see the light of day—and now it was waking up.

Jake's P.O.V. :

Rina's glare is something else. Seriously, it's like a vibroblade to the chest—sharp, precise, and utterly unforgiving. I'm pretty sure I'll find a scar from that look later.

Thankfully, she seemed to be done trying to kill me with her eyes and had gone back to reading whatever was on that viewing monitor by the data panel. I took that as a cue to turn my attention elsewhere.

When I saw Kado, Mira, and Davik approaching, I waved them over with the kind of excitement I probably shouldn't have considering our situation. "Hey, check this out!" I said, gesturing at the pedestal.

Kado leaned in first, squinting at the mechanism. "Another lift? You think it goes even deeper?"

Davik murmured from behind him, "If it does, I bet there's more of those invisible droids waiting. Probably not just IG models, either." His tone was grim, and I could tell the idea of anything deadlier than what we'd already fought wasn't sitting well with him. Honestly, same.

Mira tilted her head, studying the pedestal. "So, what do we know about this one?"

"Not much," I admitted, shrugging. "Could be a lift, like Kado said. Or maybe something else entirely. I mean, the one upstairs revealed the key, so who knows what this one does? Guess we'll find out soon."

Kado nodded thoughtfully and then glanced over at Rina. "Looks like she's done slicing into it, though. Probably decrypting whatever info she pulled. So..." He turned to me, raising an eyebrow. "Go ahead. Let's see what happens."

And that was all the permission I needed.

I pressed the activation panel on the pedestal, a bit of a grin tugging at the corner of my lips. Mechanisms inside whirred to life, gears grinding as the pedestal began its process. It was fascinating to watch, the way the parts moved with such precision and purpose.

Then it happened.

"What do you think you're doing?!"

The yell startled all of us so much that we practically jumped out of our skins.

We turned in unison to see Rina standing by the data panel, her face red with fury. She was livid, and her sharp voice echoed in the cavern, cutting through the sound of the pedestal's gears like a thermal detonator in a quiet room.

"Oh, great," I muttered under my breath, already bracing myself. This was going to hurt more than her glare, wasn't it?

Jake's P.O.V. :

"Rina, I get that you can get mad, but did it not occur to you that I wouldn't have done this without the others giving me the go-ahead?" I waved a hand toward the others, my voice dripping with a mix of frustration and defensiveness. "We all agreed it's the same system as the one upstairs. All I did was push the button! And besides, you were busy with your reading—how was I supposed to know this would set you off?"

The pedestal shook violently, just like the lift mechanism we'd seen earlier, backing up my argument. I gestured at it, as if saying, See? It's exactly what we expected.

Rina took a deep breath, clearly reigning in her temper. Then, to my surprise, she apologized. A sincere apology, no less.

"Sorry," she said, her tone more composed now. "I got agitated because this isn't just some random storage vault, Jake. This place is a prison."

"A prison?" I repeated, the word tasting bitter in my mouth.

"Yes, and those IG assassin droids we fought? They were the guards—guards, Jake!" She emphasized the word as if it would help it sink into my thick skull.

That got my attention. Guards, not scavenged relics or some overzealous security detail. Actual prison guards. My mind raced, trying to piece together the implications.

"The Old Republic Senate and Jedi ordered something locked in here," she continued. "This was pre-Ruusan Reformation, so we're talking about the kind of stuff they didn't want anyone to find. And since the guards were still active...whatever's in here probably is too."

Chills ran down my spine. "Wait, wait, wait," I stammered. "You're telling me there's something in here so dangerous the Old Republic and the Jedi locked it up with assassin droids? And you couldn't have told me this before I hit the button?"

"Jake, I was reading! You saw me!" Rina snapped back.

"Well, you should've tackled me or something!" I shot back.

Our escalating argument was cut short by Kado's firm voice. "Enough, both of you," he said, stepping between us. "Jake, don't blame yourself. This was a majority vote. We all agreed to activate the pedestal."

I grumbled under my breath but let it go. Rina gave me a look, and I could tell she wanted to say more, but then the shaking stopped.

The sound that followed was hauntingly familiar. It was the same low grinding noise we'd heard when the lift upstairs activated. My stomach dropped.

"Something's coming," I muttered.

Davik was already in motion, his instincts kicking in before the rest of us could process what was happening. He barked orders with the precision of someone who'd survived too many ambushes.

"Take cover! Surround the exit!" he commanded, pointing to the pedestal area where the sound was loudest.

We divided into three groups. Kado brought Mira to a position east of the pedestal with the most cover, likely setting up to act as our snipers. Davik took Nick-01 and Nick-02 with him, forming another group to the west, flanking the suspected exit. That left Rina and me awkwardly stuck together.

As we crouched behind a jagged outcropping of rock, I tried to apologize for earlier, but the words caught in my throat. At the same time, Rina tried to apologize as well, and we both ended up stammering over each other like a couple of idiots.

This was embarrassing. The kind of awkward that makes you want to dig a hole and bury yourself in it.

Rina smirked, breaking the tension, and extended her fist toward me. A fist bump. I hesitated for a split second before bumping it, relieved to feel the tension dissolve.

"So," I asked, trying to move past the awkwardness, "does that file you decrypted say anything about what's locked up in here?"

Rina nodded grimly. "An experimental droid," she said. "Its core is powered by a kyber crystal, and its chassis is made of blaster-resistant metal. It's heavily armed but slow, and its weapons can't fire continuously."

A lump formed in my throat. "You're kidding me," I said weakly.

"Nope," she replied, her voice clipped.

The grinding sound grew louder, followed by a metallic clang as the pedestal area shifted. Something massive was coming up—or something even worse was about to be let out.

My heart pounded in my chest. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but as I glanced around at the others, I realized something. None of them were moving.

Kado, Mira, Davik, even Rina—they were staying put.

We weren't just salvagers anymore, chasing scraps for profit or the next score. We'd already decided, as a crew, to use what we earned to free slaves and hunt down the scum who profit from misery: pirates, slavers, the worst of the galaxy.

This wasn't about profit anymore. It was about doing what was right.

None of us were the kind of people who ran from our mistakes.

Even if it killed us. But honestly it's more preferable we don't die.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

76 Chapters are available on my patreon

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Jktorres.55 · Mar 10, 2025

Jake's P.O.V. :

The lift had finally arrived, and with it came its cargo: droids. And not just any droids—these were massive, towering machines that easily stood taller than my Skew droids. Their dark, blaster-resistant plating gleamed menacingly under the faint light filtering through the cavern.

Just as Rina had described, they looked like walking fortresses, slow but formidable.

As I watched, still trying to wrap my head around the situation, I heard Kado swearing up a storm from the east. I winced at the string of colorful language, realizing Rina must've filled him in while I was preoccupied eyeing the droids.

I glanced toward Kado and Mira's position, tucked behind some solid cover. Kado looked ready to throw a thermal detonator at the lift just out of sheer frustration, while Mira's expression was grim but focused, her rifle at the ready. Then I turned my attention to Davik. He was crouched with Nick-01 and Nick-02, both droids aiming their weapons at the lift. His expression was calm, determined, like this was just another battlefield for him.

That's when I noticed something—or rather, someone—was missing.

"Hey, Rina," I whispered urgently. "Where's Arlos?"

Without missing a beat, she replied, "I sent him on an errand after I finished decrypting the data."

"An errand?!" I hissed. "We're about to fight experimental droids in a Jedi prison, and you sent him on an errand?"

She rolled her eyes. "Relax. He's fine. It's something important."

I wanted to argue, but the sound of mechanical movement snapped my attention back to the lift.

One of the droids stepped forward, its movements slow and deliberate. It was massive, easily twice the width of a standard IG assassin droid. Its glowing red photoreceptors scanned the area like it already knew we were here.

"Only one's moving," I murmured, mostly to myself.

"Lucky us," Rina muttered sarcastically.

I couldn't argue with her. Six of these things were more than we could handle, especially with our shields already fried from the earlier EMP bursts. But if only one was moving, it gave us a chance to test its limits—and maybe figure out how to take them down before the others joined the party.

"Everyone, hold fire," Davik's voice crackled softly over the comms. "Let's see what it does first."

The droid took a few more steps forward, its heavy footfalls echoing ominously through the cavern. It raised one arm, and a small panel slid open, revealing a built-in blaster cannon.

"Test its limits?" I whispered to Rina. "How about we start with: Don't get vaporized?"

"Good plan," she shot back.

The droid paused, its cannon glowing faintly as it powered up. I could feel the tension in the air, every muscle in my body coiled and ready to spring into action.

This wasn't going to be an easy fight.

But we were salvagers—survivors—and we'd already made it this far. One way or another, we'd figure out a way to beat these droids.

Jake's P.O.V. :

The droid fired.

The shot screamed through the cavern and hit our cover dead-on. The explosion wasn't just loud; it was deafening. I felt the heat and force before I even registered being thrown backward, landing hard on the rocky ground a few feet away.

My ears rang, and my whole body ached. The impact left me dizzy, but adrenaline was a powerful motivator. I scrambled behind the nearest chunk of debris that could pass for cover, ignoring the sharp pain in my side where I'd slammed into the ground.

Rina was beside me, shaken but unhurt. Without wasting a second, we both popped up and opened fire on the droid.

Frustration clawed at me as I watched my blaster bolts hit the thing's armored shell without leaving so much as a scorch mark. "Blaster resistant" was a gross understatement. This thing shrugged off shots like they were mosquito bites.

I wasn't the only one struggling. Davik and the Nick droids were firing from their position, their bolts glancing harmlessly off its reinforced plating. Even Mira, aiming for the joints with her sniper rifle, was having no luck.

"Shoot the joints!" Kado bellowed over the comms, swearing like a sailor while letting off his own volley of shots. "They're its weak points—if it even has any!"

The droid was relentless, methodically turning its attention from us to Kado and Mira's position. I peeked out from behind cover just in time to see it begin charging another shot.

My gut twisted as I realized where it was aiming.

"Mira! Kado! Move!" I yelled, even though I knew they were already ahead of me.

The droid fired, and another deafening explosion rocked the cavern. Their cover shattered into a cloud of rock and debris.

Unlike us, Mira and Kado didn't hunker down. They bolted, barely dodging the blast in time. But the force of the explosion still knocked them off their feet, scattering them in opposite directions.

Mira ended up closer to Rina and me, coughing and grimacing but alive. Kado landed closer to Davik's position, still swearing up a storm as he dragged himself behind a new piece of cover.

The droid paused briefly after firing, its cannon cooling down.

"Okay," I muttered, breathing hard, "I am very glad it can't fire continuously. Because we'd all be toast by now."

Rina gave me a look that screamed no kidding, but she was too focused on assessing the droid's movements to say anything.

The lull in its attack was our one saving grace, but I knew it wouldn't last. We needed a new plan—fast.

"Jake," Rina hissed, pulling me back from my thoughts. "If the blasters aren't working, we need to think outside the box. Got anything left in that genius brain of yours?"

I glanced at the droid as it began repositioning, its movements slow but precise. It was like a predator sizing up its next kill.

"Maybe," I said, an idea forming. "But it's going to take some time."

"Then make it quick," she snapped, her gaze locked on the hulking machine. "Because this thing doesn't look like it's running out of ammo anytime soon."

Jake's P.O.V. :

The droid shifted its focus to Davik's group and began walking.

Its pace was unnervingly slow—more like a casual stroll than a battle march—and somehow, that made it even more terrifying. It wasn't in a rush because it didn't need to be. It was like it knew it had the upper hand.

Davik, Kado, and the Nick droids were hammering it with nonstop fire, bolts bouncing uselessly off its armored frame. Rina and I added our own shots, hoping that sheer volume might crack something.

No luck.

"Scatter and keep firing!" Davik barked over the comms. "Look for a weak spot!"

The group obeyed, spreading out as they continued to unleash blaster fire. Then the droid fired its third shot.

The cannon blast tore through the cavern, obliterating a chunk of wall directly in Davik's path. He ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding the debris, but it left him out in the open with nowhere to hide.

"Damn it!" he growled, firing blindly at the approaching machine as he scrambled for new cover.

Rina's voice snapped me out of my panic. "Jake, come on! Think of something!"

I forced myself to focus. My first thought was to repeat what we'd used on the IG assassin droids—the EMP machine.

I glanced toward the spot where we'd set it up earlier, but my heart sank. The area was now buried under a pile of debris from one of the droid's earlier explosions.

It might still be intact, but getting to it wouldn't be easy.

Grinding my teeth, I yanked the EMP grenades from my belt and thrust them into Rina's hands. "Here. You've got a better arm and aim than I do."

She blinked, startled. "You're not wrong, but what about you?"

"I'm going to check the EMP machine," I said, already moving. "It's our best shot, but if it's fried, those grenades are Plan B. Just—don't miss."

Her face hardened with determination as she nodded. "I won't."

Behind me, the droid's heavy footsteps reverberated through the cavern, each one closer than the last. I didn't have much time.

Scrambling over broken rocks and dodging falling debris, I made my way toward the buried EMP machine, praying to any higher power that it was still operational.

Davik's P.O.V. :

Well, this is a fine mess I've gotten myself into.

That droid is an absolute nightmare, and I'm pretty sure it's gunning for me specifically. My blaster fire wasn't doing much more than annoying it—if that—and I could feel the others' shots pelting its frame too. No effect.

I had to keep moving, slowly working toward some kind of cover while still laying down fire. The others were doing their best, but the droid's focus stayed locked on me. Smart bastard. It wasn't giving me a chance to regroup.

Now I know how those thugs felt when we sicced Skew-02 on them, except this… this was a whole new level of bad. Skew-02 could be overwhelmed with enough firepower. This thing? It was built to shrug off anything short of a direct miracle.

Finally, I found a chunk of debris big enough to use as cover and dove behind it, putting some precious distance between me and the death machine. Thank the stars it was a slow walker. That gave me just enough breathing room to check over my gear.

The EMP burst from earlier had fried most of it, but when my hand brushed against the EMP gun Jake gave me, I almost smiled. Almost.

Quick inspection: the gun still worked—barely. But it looked damaged, sparking slightly at the seams. Great. The thing might fry itself or worse, blow up in my hands if I wasn't careful. But it was something, and something was better than nothing.

I peeked around the corner of my cover to see the droid's weapon arm swiveling in my direction. The glowing energy build-up in its barrel told me all I needed to know.

It was powering up another shot, and I had seconds to act.

So I did the only thing that came to mind.

I aimed the EMP gun and fired at its weapon arm.

The shot hit dead-on, a small burst of electrical energy rippling across the droid's arm. The glow of its cannon dissipated, and the arm jerked slightly to the side as if swatting at a fly.

It worked!

…Sort of.

The cannon didn't fire, but it also wasn't damaged enough to take it out of commission. The droid recalibrated its aim with a slow precision that made my stomach drop.

"Well," I muttered to myself, "guess that's one way to get its attention."

And oh, did I have its attention now.

Davik's P.O.V. :

The droid's weapon arm re-engaged, and the ominous glow began to build again. Just as I braced myself for another shot, something dropped beside the droid—a small metallic object. Before I could fully process what it was, the explosion came, not fiery but electrical, the same kind of sphere-like shockwave as when Jake's EMP machine activated.

The droid was the epicenter of the light show, its joints jerking violently as arcs of electricity danced across its frame. It looked like it was being electrocuted, and for the first time, it seemed vulnerable.

"Move while it's down!" Rina's voice cut through the chaos.

I didn't need to be told twice. I sprinted toward Rina and Mira's position, keeping an eye on the droid to make sure it stayed incapacitated. As I got closer, something caught my eye—a small, recessed panel on the back of the droid, partially exposed by its convulsions.

I reached Rina's position and ducked behind cover. My breath was ragged, but at least I was still in one piece. Mira was nearby, scanning the surroundings, while Rina was already back to fiddling with her equipment.

"Where's Jake?" I asked between breaths.

"Trying to dig the EMP machine out of the debris," Rina replied without looking up. "We just need to buy him time."

Great. That wasn't exactly encouraging.

"How many grenades do you have left?" I asked.

"Two."

That wasn't what I wanted to hear. "Two?" I muttered. "That's… depressing."

"We'll make do," Rina said, her tone leaving no room for debate.

I motioned to Mira and called her over. "What's the situation with the droids?"

"The nick droids regrouped with Kado," Mira answered.

"And Skew-02?"

Rina glanced up. "With Arlos."

"And where is Arlos?" I asked.

Rina answered. "On an errand."

"On what kind of errand?" I asked skeptically.

"The 'turn the tables' kind."

She didn't elaborate, and I decided not to push. If she had a plan, we didn't have time to waste questioning it.

I switched to the shortwave comm and called Kado. "Kado, you there?"

After a tense moment, his voice crackled back. "Yeah, still kicking. What's the situation?"

"I've got a plan," I said. "We're going to need the nick droids."

"What for?"

"There's a control panel on the back of that thing. Rina's EMP grenades can temporarily disable it, but we'll need the nick droids to help us get to the panel and buy Jake enough time to get the machine working again."

Kado didn't respond right away, but I could hear him muttering to himself before he finally said, "All right. Give me a minute to coordinate."

"Make it quick," I urged. "That thing won't stay down forever."

I turned back to Rina and Mira. "Let's hope Jake hurries. We're going to need every advantage we can get."

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

77 Chapters are available on my patreon

you can support me and become a patron
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Jktorres.55 · Mar 11, 2025

MULTI CHAPTER POV

Rina's P.O.V. :

I scrambled off the giant droid, the sparks from the exposed system flaring uncomfortably close to my face. That, and the realization that this thing could still blow sky-high, was all the motivation I needed. Mostly, though, I was just...tired. My arms ached, my legs felt like durasteel weights, and my hands trembled from the sustained blaster fire.

Even as I dropped to the ground, panting, I couldn't help but cast a glance back at the opened panel. The only thing smoking was the exposed system inside, the rest of its armor looking as pristine as the moment it stepped out of that cursed lift.

"Unbelievable," I muttered, shaking my head. "That armor is something else."

Still, it was smoking, which had to count for something, right? I dared to hope—maybe we've finally beaten this thing. The others crept out from their respective covers, their faces equally drained but cautiously optimistic. Jake was still absent with the EMP machine, but a small, involuntary giggle escaped me at the thought. Guess we didn't need him to save the day after all.

And then, as if to challenge my fleeting moment of smugness, Arlos arrived. He came strolling into view with Skew-01 beside him, the battered remains of two IG assassin droids dangling from each hand like trophies. His ever-polite voice cut through the smoky air.

"Miss Rina," he began, his tone even but ever-so-slightly tinged with amusement, "I see you've been keeping yourselves occupied."

I straightened up as best I could, brushing off some debris and plastering a grin on my face. "Well, Arlos, I did save the day," I said, throwing my arms wide for emphasis. "No need to thank me, but—"

The collective groan—or maybe they were exasperated eye-rolls—was immediate. Mira muttered something under her breath, and Davik outright snorted as he leaned on a piece of cover, reloading his blaster. Kado just gave me one of those looks.

Arlos, ever the gentleman, tilted his head politely. "Of course, Miss Rina. I shall be sure to make note of your heroic efforts."

Before I could respond, I caught the smallest twitch of movement from Arlos. He raised a hand, gesturing past me, his expression remaining composed but unmistakably pointed.

"Miss Rina," he said, "if I may—behind you."

Dread pooled in my stomach, but I forced myself to turn.

My heart sank.

The giant droid—the same one I had just risked life and limb to disable—was moving.

The faint wisps of smoke from its exposed panel hadn't signaled defeat. No, they had been the death throes of my fleeting optimism. The droid's hulking form was sluggish, jerking as though struggling against itself, but it was unmistakably powering back up.

"Oh, come on!" I shouted, throwing my hands up in disbelief. "How is this thing still standing?!"

The others sprang into action immediately. Mira was already scanning the droid for weaknesses, Davik cursed loudly as he checked his remaining equipment, and Kado—Kado didn't even bother with words, just opened fire with everything he had left.

Skew-01 shifted beside Arlos, its head tilting slightly as though assessing the situation.

"Well," Arlos said, turning to me with his usual calm, "it appears your earlier declaration may have been…premature."

I shot him a glare, though it lacked real heat. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," I grumbled. "Guess we're not done saving the day yet."

Without missing a beat, Arlos inclined his head. "Very good, Miss Rina. Might I suggest we proceed with urgency?"

"Oh, we'll proceed," I said, already reaching for my blaster. "Let's see if this droid likes being peppered with more firepower than it knows what to do with."

The others were already shouting commands and falling into position. Jake's EMP machine might still be buried, and Nick-02 might be gone, but we weren't out of the fight yet. This thing might be nearly indestructible, but so was our resolve.

And besides, I wasn't about to let some overgrown metal bully ruin my moment of triumph. Not yet.

The giant droid's arm cannon began to charge again, the glow from its weapon unmistakable. Then, with a sharp burst of sparks and a high-pitched whine, the weapon sputtered out. For a brief moment, there was only silence, and then I couldn't help myself—I let out a triumphant shout.

"See? Destroying that panel did do something!"

My voice carried across the battlefield, loud enough for everyone to hear. Even Davik cracked a smile despite the tension. I turned back just in time to see Skew-01 step forward, its gait steady and determined. It was heading straight for the giant droid, ready to engage in melee combat.

For a moment, I felt a glimmer of hope. Skew-01 was built for situations like this—tough, reliable, and capable of taking a beating. The two droids clashed with a metallic cacophony that echoed through the space, Skew-01's reinforced arms meeting the giant droid's bulk.

Initially, they seemed evenly matched. Skew-01 was quick and precise, darting in to strike at vulnerable joints or shove the larger droid off-balance. But it didn't take long to see the difference in their capabilities. The giant droid hit harder, its blows reverberating through the air. Its longer reach forced Skew-01 to overextend just to land a hit, and its armor was leagues beyond anything Jake could have welded together in the time we had.

Each exchange tilted further in the giant droid's favor. Skew-01 was holding its ground, but barely.

That's when I heard a rush of footsteps behind me. Whipping around, I saw Jake emerging from a pile of rubble, dragging the EMP machine behind him. The machine looked battered and worse for wear, but Jake was moving like a man with a mission.

He looked...well, like he'd been rolling around in the aftermath of a mining collapse. Dust clung to his clothes, his face streaked with dirt and grime. His hair was a mess, and his usual half-smile was replaced with an expression of sheer determination.

But I couldn't help it. "Jake," I called, smirking despite myself, "you look like you've been auditioning for a holo about asteroid miners."

He gave me a look, somewhere between exasperation and amusement. "You're welcome, Rina," he shot back, hauling the EMP machine closer. "I take it you're not just standing there for fun?"

I didn't have time to answer. Jake arrived just in time to witness Skew-01 struggling against the giant droid. The blows it was landing weren't enough to make a dent in the heavily armored frame, and every hit it took in return left visible damage. I bit my lip, watching as Skew-01 was forced to backpedal under the onslaught.

"Jake," I said, my voice sharp, "help me with those IG assassin droids Arlos brought back."

He blinked at me, clearly confused but already moving to where the mangled droids lay. "What for?"

The others were just as curious. Mira paused mid-shot, glancing over. "Rina, what are you planning?"

I grinned, though the expression felt tight. "Prison guards usually carry tools or systems to keep prisoners in line. And IG droids are built for efficiency—they'll have something we can use for a quick takedown or immobilization. We just need to find it."

Kado snorted from his position. "You're betting on scavenging tricks from broken droids while we've got a giant death machine bearing down on us?"

"Got a better idea?" I shot back.

He muttered something under his breath but didn't argue further. Jake and I crouched over the assassin droids, prying open panels and sifting through their innards with hurried precision. Skew-01 continued its duel, buying us precious seconds, though it was clear the fight couldn't last much longer.

"Come on," I muttered, yanking out wires and small components, "these things are bound to have something. A shock module, restraining bolts, anything!"

Beside me, Jake frowned as he tinkered with a severed limb. "If they've got an EMP disruptor or immobilizer, we might just stand a chance."

The battle raged on around us, but for the first time, I felt a flicker of hope. If we could find the right tool, maybe—just maybe—we could finish this.

Jake's P.O.V. :

We were each tearing into a downed IG droid, working fast under the weight of every second Skew-01 had to hold its own against the giant death machine. Rina's logic about prison guards made sense—they would've been equipped with tools tailored to restrain prisoners or contain a breakout. My bet was on finding something compact but devastatingly effective.

"There!" I muttered, spotting a small, cylindrical device tucked into the IG droid's chassis. It looked deployable—some sort of gadget designed to be used in the field. Excitement flared, but when I tried to fiddle with it, the thing refused to cooperate.

Frustration bubbled up. "Rina!" I called, waving her down. "Does the one you're tearing into have anything like this?"

Before I even finished, she was already digging into a similar compartment on her IG droid. Typical Rina—already ahead of the curve.

"Yeah, I think it does!" she shouted back, examining a matching device.

"Great!" I grinned, diving back into mine.

The device in my hands gave me trouble until, finally, I must've pressed the right sequence or trigger. A low hum emanated from it, followed by a sudden burst of energy. I dropped it instinctively, and the little gadget activated as soon as it hit the ground.

A bubble-like field expanded outward, encapsulating the IG droid I'd been working on. The droid's body began to rise, its limbs going slack as it floated in the air like a marionette. I took a step back, not wanting to get caught in whatever force was holding it up.

"Hey, Rina!" I called, pointing to the floating IG droid with a triumphant grin.

She looked up from her work, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of the levitating droid. "Well, that's something," she said with a smirk.

Before I could reply, something rolled out from the IG droid as it was suspended in the field. It didn't float like the droid itself but instead tumbled across the ground until it came to a stop.

Curiosity piqued, I crouched down to examine it. It looked like...a grenade? Not the high-tech variety you'd expect in this kind of setting, though—it was primitive by comparison. Foam-based, if I had to guess.

"Seriously?" I muttered, turning it over in my hands. "A foam grenade? Bit low-tech for what we're dealing with here."

Still, it didn't take long for the pieces to click together in my head. The IG droids must've been using these tools in tandem. The grav machine—yeah, that's what I'll call it, makes me sound professional—would immobilize their targets by suspending them in the air. Then, they'd deploy the foam grenades to restrain and incapacitate whatever they were dealing with.

And considering the cloaking tech those IG droids had, it all made perfect sense. The giant droids would have trouble locking onto them. The IG units could deploy the grav machine to lock the giant droid in place and then use the foam grenade to lock them down physically. A clever, efficient system for reining in rogue prisoners—or escaped war machines.

I stood up, holding the foam grenade and looking at the floating IG droid. "Rina," I said, my grin widening, "looks like we're borrowing the IG droids' playbook. Grav machine plus foam grenade equals one big, immobile target."

She looked at the tools in her hands, then at the battlefield, where Skew-01 was still trading blows with the giant droid, and nodded. "Let's make it happen, Jake. But we're going to need timing—and some serious luck."

Luck, huh? With the way things had been going today, I figured we were due for a little.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

77 Chapters are available on my patreon

you can support me and become a patron
P A T R E O N . C O M / TofferPlays
(but only if you want to, okay?)

This fanfic is also on:

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Jktorres.55 · Mar 13, 2025

Apologies for the short chapter, I promise to have my story-telling skills back up to par

MULTI POV CHAPTER

A reader pointed out discrepancies on how the story flowed, upon reviewing his points and back-reading, I've determined that some changes to chapters are needed and this will not affect the latter existing chapter, only fix the stories flow - however this needs five of the chapters to be re-written. I cannot do that in one go so please bear with me if you find that a chapter doesn't make sense compared to a previous one - It more likely is a candidate for a re-write.

Shout out to "Webzayne" for noticing and pointing out where things could be improved.

Jake's P.O.V. :

While Skew-01 was losing a slugfest with the giant droid, Rina and I huddled with the rest of the crew to explain my idea: follow the IG droids' supposed playbook for handling the giant droid. Rina laid it out, and I filled in the gaps, complete with hand gestures to emphasize the crucial timing. The idea was met with savage grins from everyone—except Arlos, whose wary glance darted between the grins and back to me. He looked genuinely concerned for our mental health.

"So, what happens after we immobilize it with the foam grenades?" Arlos asked, arms crossed. "Do we just throw it back on the pile and hope it doesn't wake up again?"

He had a point, but now wasn't the time for overthinking. "One problem at a time," I replied, focusing on the task at hand. It also struck me that the other giant droids in the pile hadn't activated, but I shelved the thought for later.

The plan was simple: Rina and Arlos would search for more foam grenades or grav machines. I handed the two grav machines we had to Davik and Kado, walking them through a quick tutorial on deploying them effectively. Mira and I kept the foam grenades, ready to use when Davik or Kado gave the signal. Glancing back at the slugfest, I winced at the sight of Skew-01 taking another hit. Its frame was scorched and dented, and I had just finished repairing it too.

We moved into position, and after contacting Rina and Arlos to hurry, we gave each other nods. Fingers crossed, we started the plan.

Davik's P.O.V. :

Kado and I split up, flanking the giant droid on either side of its brutal clash with Skew-01. We had agreed I'd deploy my grav machine first, and if it failed, Kado would follow up with his. Less risk of overlapping fields, more chances to pin this monstrosity down.

The moment came when the giant droid backhanded Skew-01, sending the battered droid stumbling. I seized the opportunity, activating the grav machine and sliding it toward the droid's legs. The machine hummed to life, and I felt a flicker of triumph as its right leg lifted off the ground.

"It's working!" Mira cheered. But our groans quickly followed when the droid adjusted its balance, taking a stabilizing step back. Before I could curse, Kado activated his grav machine and slid it into place. The combined anti-gravity fields worked wonders, lifting the entire giant droid off the ground. Helpless, it flailed its arms wildly, nearly striking one of the machines.

"Foam it now!" I roared to Mira and Jake. They hurled their grenades in tandem, the sticky foam exploding around the droid's joints. Its thrashing slowed but didn't stop entirely, the metallic creaking audible even over the chaos.

"Rina, hurry up!" I bellowed. To my relief, she appeared moments later, sprinting and throwing three foam grenades. The explosions smothered the droid's optics and further locked its joints, finally immobilizing it. Arlos followed, lugging two more grav machines. He handed one to Jake and, at my signal, activated the last machine to bolster the field.

"Foam won't hold forever," I reminded the group. "Maybe a couple of hours if we're lucky. Worst case? An hour. We need a solution."

Arlos hesitated. "Are we… putting it back in the pile?"

"No," I growled. "That doesn't solve anything. Ideas?"

Jake perked up, turning to Rina. "Didn't you mention something about the droid earlier?"

Rina nodded, her expression turning serious. "These giant droids are blaster-resistant, equipped with slow but powerful arm cannons, and… they're resistant to the Force." She hesitated. "Because they're powered by Kyber crystals."

Jake's eyes lit up. "If we remove the Kyber crystal, it should shut down."

I rolled my eyes. "As if it's that simple."

Rina's P.O.V. :

I cleared my throat. "Since Jake doesn't have an actual plan," I started, "let's try mine."

That got their attention. I explained my theory: the circuit panel on the droid's back could be accessed and removed, giving us deeper access to its inner workings.

Jake looked at me with an expression that could only be described as awe. Or maybe he just had a weird face. Either way, it was flattering.

With a plan in mind, we moved quickly. Jake and I would handle the circuit panel—my idea, his mechanical skills. Kado assigned Arlos to assist Mira in case her injuries flared up, much to her irritation. Davik, ever the pragmatist, went off to hunt for more foam grenades with Kado trailing behind.

Jake and I readied our tools. He strapped his EMP machine to his back, and I raised an eyebrow.

"Just in case," he said. "Better to have it and not need it than the other way around."

I couldn't argue with that.

Taking deep breaths, I sprinted toward the immobilized droid and jumped into the anti-gravity field, grabbing onto a patch of foam to steady myself. Sticking the landing, I allowed myself a small cheer. When I turned to check on Jake, I nearly facepalmed. He launched himself right after me but managed to land face-first before his feet followed. Good thing we were in zero-gravity, or he might've broken his nose.

"Nice landing, ace," I quipped, pulling him upright.

"Not a word," he muttered, dusting himself off.

We got to work, prying open the circuit panel and examining the complex network inside. The wiring was dense, a labyrinth of circuits and conduits that screamed Old Republic design. It wasn't going to be simple.

"This isn't just standard programming," Jake muttered, pointing at an intricately engraved component. "These runes… they're linked to the Kyber crystal. Probably safeguards."

"Can you bypass it?" I asked, already reaching for a precision tool.

"I can try," he said, his voice steady but his brow furrowed. "Keep an eye on the foam and the anti-grav machines. If they fail, we're toast."

The others checked in periodically. Mira confirmed she was fine, Arlos kept a watchful eye on our position, and Davik returned with a small stash of additional grenades. Kado stood guard, scanning the room for any more surprises. The tension in the air was palpable, but we kept working. Every second counted.

Jake's P.O.V. :

I'm going to die.

That thought's been stuck on repeat in my head, like some broken holo-reel, ever since that kriffing pulse hit us. I was so out of it I didn't even notice Rina had kicked me off the floating droid until I was already tumbling back down. She followed a second later, landing hard and scrambling to her feet, but it took me longer to stop shaking—not that the trembling ever really went away. But kark, Rina had it worse. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose bleeding like someone had taken a vibroblade to it. She looked like she'd just gone ten rounds with a rancor and lost.

I forced myself upright, legs like jelly, and caught a glimpse of the others. They didn't fare much better. Mira was pale, Arlos looked like he'd aged a decade in the last five minutes, and even Davik—cool, unshakable Davik—had his hand clamped on a crate to steady himself. None of us escaped unscathed from that blast of dread, but Arlos… he seemed worse than Rina and me. And we were at the kriffing epicenter.

We were barely getting our bearings when the droid started moving. The foam it was trapped in—the same foam that had held it like durasteel bonds just minutes ago—was cracking. It wasn't free yet, but its massive frame was shifting, and every movement made my stomach drop. How in the nine Corellian hells did it get space to move? Was it that kriffing pulse from the crystal? The… red crystal?

Wait. Red.

Doesn't red mean Sith?

Why didn't I notice that before? Why didn't it click the second I saw it? But then again, would knowing earlier have changed anything? Probably not. Kark it, Jake, focus.

I swore under my breath—loudly, repeatedly, every curse I could think of—trying to trick my brain into calming down. It wasn't working. The whole "not being Force-sensitive" thing gave me this false sense of security when it came to the dark side. I thought I was immune to its influence, that I'd just stroll through this planet and deal with whatever came at me without a second thought. But this planet? It's steeped in the dark side, thick as a spice addict's haze. And the dark side? It does exactly this. It makes you complacent. Overconfident. Stupid.

The droid jerked again, more foam cracking, and that pulse hit us a second time. That same karking heart-stopping dread slammed into me like a landspeeder crash, and for a moment, I couldn't breathe. It was like the fear itself was alive, clawing at my chest, freezing me in place. I saw it in the others too—the same wide-eyed terror, the same paralyzing grip. It wasn't just fear; it was something worse. Something primal. Something that crawled into your mind and told you, without words, that there was no hope. That running wouldn't save you. That fighting was pointless.

I realized I wasn't breathing. None of us were. The dread was so overwhelming that I hadn't even noticed my lungs burning until Rina stumbled into me, shaking me back to reality.

"Get it together, genius," she rasped, her voice hoarse, and I nodded, even though I didn't trust myself to speak.

The droid roared, a deep, mechanical sound that reverberated through the chamber. It wasn't words, but it didn't need to be. That sound carried intent—pure, unbridled malice—and it felt like a slap to the face.

"Jake, the crystal!" Rina shouted, snapping me out of it.

Right. The kriffing crystal. The red, Sith-tied, probably-evil-as-kark crystal. We'd barely gotten a look at it before, but now… I'd seen enough. The droid wasn't just powered by it; it was controlled by it. And if we didn't destroy that thing soon, we were all bantha fodder.

I grabbed my toolkit, fumbling with trembling hands, and turned to Rina. "We… we need a plan," I stammered. "And fast."

Arlos P.O.V. :

The giant droid loomed over us, motionless but menacing. Its sheer presence felt like a physical weight pressing down on me. I knew its weapons were disabled, and the foam grenades had it pinned, yet every instinct screamed that this thing—this amalgamation of durasteel and malice—was going to be the end of us all.

I didn't realize I was trembling until I felt a steadying hand on my shoulder. Turning my head, I saw Miss Mira crouched beside me, her gaze steady despite the chaos. "Come on, Arlos," she said, her voice firm but not unkind. "Help me move Kado. We need to get him farther from that thing."

Her words cut through the haze of fear gripping me. A task. Something tangible to hold onto. Focus on the goal, not the dread. I latched onto that lifeline with both hands, nodding sharply. "Yes, ma'am," I murmured, though my voice sounded hollow even to me.

Sir Davik was already half-carrying Sir Kado, his expression grim but resolute. "Arlos, take him to the lift entrance," he said, his voice rough but commanding. "Get him as far from that karking monster as possible."

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat refusing to budge, and nodded again. Words failed me, but my body moved on autopilot as I took hold of Sir Kado's other side. He groaned faintly, his head lolling as we maneuvered him across the room. My grip tightened instinctively, as though holding onto him could anchor me to reality and keep the encroaching panic at bay.

Every step felt like wading through tar, the oppressive energy radiating from the giant droid threatening to drag me down. I couldn't let it. Kado needed me. The crew needed me. Letting go, breaking down—it wasn't an option.

We reached the relative safety of the lift entrance, and I eased Kado down onto the floor, leaning him against the wall. My breath came in shallow gasps, but I forced myself to focus on him, checking for injuries and ensuring he was stable. Anything to keep my mind from circling back to the fear clawing at the edges of my consciousness.

Miss Mira knelt beside me, her brow furrowed as she handed me a canteen. "He'll be okay," she said quietly, her words directed at both Kado and me. I nodded, though I wasn't entirely convinced.

The room was far from safe, the droid still struggling against its restraints and emitting pulses of dread that threatened to crush what little composure I had left. But as long as I had a task—something to do—I could keep going.

I glanced back toward the others. Sir Jake and Miss Rina were still near the droid, their expressions grim as they worked to assess the situation. Sir Davik stood watch, his blaster at the ready.

The sight of them, battered but determined, lit a small spark of courage within me. I wasn't alone in this fight. We weren't alone. And as long as we kept moving, kept fighting, we had a chance.

I turned my attention back to Sir Kado, my hands steady as I adjusted his position for comfort. "You're going to be fine, sir," I murmured, more to myself than him. "We've got this."

The words weren't much, but they were enough to keep me going. For now, that would have to be enough.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

77 Chapters are available on my patreon

you can support me and become a patron
P A T R E O N . C O M / TofferPlays
(but only if you want to, okay?)

This fanfic is also on:

SpaceBattles
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Jktorres.55 · Mar 14, 2025

THIS CHAPTER HAS UNDERGONE A RE-WRITE

Jake's P.O.V. :

We could all book it back to the lift entrance if we wanted to. Slam the doors, head topside, and leave this whole mess behind. But that wouldn't solve anything. Leaving this dark side relic to stew here would only let it fester, growing more dangerous until it bit us—and probably the rest of the galaxy—in the shebs. Not an option.

I scanned the room, my mind racing for solutions. Rina and Davik were nearby, Mira and Arlos were dragging Kado toward safety. My earlier assumption about Arlos taking the worst of the pulse was wrong; he looked shaken, but at least he was functional.

The giant droid was still thrashing against its restraints, foam hardening around it like a vice while the grav machines strained to hold it in place. We had time to plan, but not much. The dread emanating from the crystal at its core made my skin crawl, my mind whispering in panic that every second spent thinking was a second closer to death.

An idea hit me like a stun bolt, and my eyes snapped to Rina and Davik. "What if that pulse it sent out was a signal to activate the other droids?" I blurted out.

Their faces paled faster than a Twi'lek in an ice storm. Davik cursed under his breath, his usual cocky confidence buried under genuine fear. "I'll check on them," he said quickly, already moving toward the inactive droids piled near the far wall.

Rina and I exchanged a look. "If that thing's crystal is broadcasting, we can't afford to sit around," she said.

"Agreed. Either we rip it out, or we destroy it outright," I replied. Both options sounded equally awful.

"If we go for removal, we can't touch the crystal directly," she warned, her voice shaking slightly. "We don't know what it'll do if we make contact. That dread it's projecting…"

I nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah, I feel it too. It's trying to get in my head, make me lose focus." I swore, hoping the act would jar me into composure. "This karking planet is steeped in the dark side, and I've been treating it like any other rock. Stupid. Complacent. That's how the dark side wins."

Rina's expression darkened. "And if we destroy it?"

"We might set it off," I admitted, running a hand through my hair. "Worst-case scenario: it explodes. Best case? We shut it down."

We didn't get far into debating the finer points because Davik returned, sprinting back with a mix of relief and dread written across his face. "The other droids are no threat," he announced, slightly out of breath. "They've got holes in them—like something exploded inside."

That stopped me cold. "Holes? Where?"

"Same spot where the crystal is in that one," he said, jerking a thumb at the active droid.

Rina and I shared a glance. "Not bombs, then," she murmured.

"No," I agreed. "Incorrect attempts to remove the crystal must've triggered the explosions. Someone tried—and failed—to disarm them."

"But why leave one operational?" Rina asked, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Did the Jedi of old kark this up by working here of all places?"

I didn't answer. The thought of Jedi or Republic agents making such a boneheaded decision—on Malachor, of all worlds—was too much. Only arrogance or desperation could explain it.

"Jake!" Rina's voice snapped me out of my reverie. "What's the plan?"

"Same thing they did," I said after a beat.

"What?" she yelped, her face twisting in shock. "You want it to explode?"

"Not exactly," I countered, raising my hands defensively. "We interrupt the crystal's energy loop with an overloaded EMP device. If it works, the crystal destabilizes without a full detonation. Hopefully."

She didn't look convinced, but it was the best we had. While I calibrated my EMP machine to overload, I asked Rina and Davik to scrounge up foam grenades, just in case.

Things went south fast. The grav machines sputtered and died, their energy drained, and the giant droid collapsed with a thunderous crash. The hardened foam encasing it shattered, and it rose to its feet, the sheer size and weight of it making the ground tremble.

My EMP machine wasn't ready, but the droid didn't care. It lumbered forward, its remaining arm raising to strike. I froze, staring up at the monstrosity like a womp rat caught in the headlights of a speeder.

Something blurred past my peripheral vision—a grenade, I realized too late—slamming into the droid's shoulder and detonating. The explosion staggered it, blasting its arm apart before it could crush me.

The EMP machine activated with a deafening hum, sending out a pulse of energy that rippled through the air. The giant droid shuddered violently, sparks erupting from its joints as it seized up.

I barely had time to process what was happening when Rina shouted, "The crystal! It's cracking!"

Good news—or so I thought until she grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the lift. "We have to move! It's unstable!"

We sprinted away, stumbling as another pulse—stronger than the last—erupted from the crystal. The wave hit us like a landspeeder crash, throwing us off our feet.

My head spun as I hit the ground, but I couldn't help a grim smile. "Well," I muttered, "at least it didn't explode."

Jake's P.O.V. :

After a couple of hours, I think two....

Rina is atop the defeated Force Null Sentinel droid to finish her data-mining. From below, we could hear the faint hum of her slicer rig and occasional frustrated mutters. When she finally stretched her arms, we all winced at the sound of her joints popping. With a sigh of relief, she packed up her tools, hopped off the droid with practiced ease, and made her way toward us.

I'd taken the opportunity to plop down on the dusty floor, tinkering with one of the grav machines that Kado and Davik had brought back earlier, I'm surprised that it was intact. The thing was a marvel of engineering—Old Republic tech with a heavy dose of ingenuity. While I poked and prodded at its internal components, the others settled into various spots nearby. Davik leaned against a wall, arms crossed, keeping a wary eye on the dormant droids, while Mira sat cross-legged, tending to her gear. Arlos, as usual, looked like he was trying to figure out if he'd made a terrible mistake joining us.

By the time Rina reached us, I had a decent grasp of the grav machine's inner workings. It wasn't as complicated as I thought, though its energy modulation system was a bit archaic. I could probably improve it if we had the parts.

Rina dusted herself off, her slicer rig slung over her shoulder. "Alright, folks," she said, her voice cutting through the stillness, "I've got some news for you guys. Let's talk."

That got everyone's attention. Even Davik pushed off the wall and stepped closer, his curiosity piqued.

Rina didn't waste time. "So, first things first," she began, holding up a small holoprojector. "The name of our big friend here—or rather, its model designation—is the Force Null Sentinel Droid."

"Force Null?" Mira echoed, her brows furrowing.

"Yeah," Rina confirmed. "Makes sense when you hear what it's built for. This bad boy was designed specifically to fight and hunt Sith Force-wielders. Its armor? Made of phrik, which, as you all probably know, is lightsaber-resistant. Combine that with the kyber crystal core, and you've got a machine that's not just resistant to blaster fire—it's practically immune to direct Force manipulation."

I let out a low whistle. "That's... terrifying."

"Right?" Rina said, her tone dry. "And that's just the beginning. Its primary weapon is an overpowered blaster cannon that's basically a miniaturized ship-grade turbolaser. And if that's not enough, its energy capacity—thanks to the kyber crystal—can support additional weapon systems. The Republic designed these things to be walking nightmares."

My mind started racing with possibilities. If we could reverse-engineer some of this tech... The thought must've been obvious because the others were suddenly staring at me, incredulous. I realized I'd been muttering under my breath and laughing in that way that probably made me sound like a holo-villain.

"Uh, carry on," I said, clearing my throat and avoiding their judgmental looks.

Rina smirked but didn't comment. Instead, she dropped the next bombshell. "There's more of these droids. From what I pulled out of the memory banks, this vault isn't unique. There are other storage sites—other vaults—spread across the galaxy. How many? No clue. But if we've got six here, there could be dozens out there."

Davik let out a low growl. "That's a lot of trouble just waiting to wake up."

"Exactly," Rina said. "But here's the kicker—why were they locked up in the first place?"

"That's the real question," I said, leaning back and gesturing for her to continue. "What'd you find?"

Rina hesitated, as if deciding how best to deliver the bad news. Before she could answer, I jumped in with a theory. "Maybe the Republic locked them up after the war with the Sith Empire ended. They didn't need them anymore."

Arlos frowned. "That doesn't fit the timeline, though. The historical records we've come across show the Republic's war efforts being pretty stretched. Why waste resources locking up perfectly good weapons?"

Mira chimed in with her own idea. "What if these were defective units? Maybe they malfunctioned and got stored here while the Republic figured out what went wrong."

"Or," Davik countered, "maybe it wasn't the Republic at all. What if the Sith Empire captured these droids and sealed them away, knowing how dangerous they were?"

We all turned back to Rina, who held up a hand to quiet us. "Good guesses, but the truth is worse," she said. "The droids' programming was faulty. Their primary directive was to hunt Sith Force-wielders, but somewhere along the line, the programming got... warped. They started targeting Jedi too. And not just Force-wielders—eventually, they deemed everyone a threat. It's why they were locked away. They went rampant."

Silence fell over the group as we absorbed the implications. One of these things had nearly taken us out, and that was with half of its systems disabled. A fully operational group? It was a wonder anyone had survived long enough to lock them away.

Rina wasn't done. "Oh, and just to make it worse? These droids weren't deployed solo. They worked in groups—like the six here. Sometimes more, sometimes less. But always enough to wipe out anything in their path."

"Well," Davik said, breaking the tension with a dark chuckle, "guess we're lucky they aren't capable of waking up at once."

"No kidding," I muttered.

As the conversation died down, I glanced at the kyber crystal in my hand. We'd stopped one Force Null Sentinel, but the galaxy might still be sitting on a ticking time bomb.

Jake's P.O.V. :

After our impromptu meeting wrapped up, Kado turned his attention to Mira - I'm surprised he's already up and about, who was nursing a minor injury. Mira, for her part, didn't appreciate the extra attention.

"Seriously, Kado, I said I'm fine," she grumbled, pulling her arm away from his hands. "You've already patched me up. Twice."

Kado, unbothered, kept working with the precision of a Coruscanti med droid. "You're fine because I made you fine," he shot back, calmly inspecting her arm. "Now quit squirming. I'm just making sure you're not hiding a cracked bone."

I think Kado really wants to be busy right now.

Mira rolled her eyes and muttered something about "neighborhood grandma" under her breath, but she let him finish. It was hard to argue with Kado when he got like this—calm, persistent, and always annoyingly right.

Meanwhile, I figured it was time to tackle another problem. Our droids—the Nicks and the Skews—had taken a beating during the fight. While they weren't as advanced as the Force Null Sentinels, they were still solid pieces of work. It'd be a waste to leave them in their current state, and we'd need their help if we were going to move the Sentinel droids back to the Stellar Envoy.

"All right," I said, clapping my hands to get the others' attention. "I need some muscle. Let's drag our droids over here so I can patch them up. Not a full repair job, but enough to get them operational."

Arlos groaned. "You mean the droids that weigh as much as a bantha?"

I shrugged. "You're the one always calling me 'sir.' Consider this an order."

That got a smirk from Rina, who was already heading toward one of the Nick droids. "Come on, Arlos," she called. "Let's show these relics what teamwork looks like."

Arlos muttered something under his breath but followed her. Davik, not waiting for instructions, grabbed the other Nick droid by its battered torso and started hauling it toward me. Watching him manhandle the thing like it was a sack of grain, I wondered—not for the first time—what kind of physical training he'd had before joining the crew.

While they worked on dragging the Nicks, I made my way over to Skew-01, who was slumped against a wall nearby. One word came to mind when I looked at the droid: undying.

Skew-01 was a mess. Its once-sleek frame was covered in dents and scorch marks, and its manipulator arms barely resembled the clean, precise tools I'd originally designed. The armor plating looked like it had been chewed on by a rancor, and yet, the droid was still powered on, its photoreceptors faintly glowing.

"Damn, you've been through the wringer," I muttered, crouching down to inspect it.

Despite its sorry appearance, most of the damage was superficial. The internals were mostly intact, though I'd need to replace the arms and realign some components. I couldn't help but grin. Skew-01 might look like a walking junk heap, but it was still kicking. I patted its chassis affectionately. "You're a tough one. Let's get you patched up."

From the corner of my eye, I caught movement. Turning, I saw Rina and Arlos awkwardly dragging one of the Nick droids toward me, grunting with effort.

"You sure know how to build them heavy," Arlos panted, wiping sweat from his brow.

Rina shot him a look. "Would you rather they fall apart after one fight? Thought so."

A few steps behind them, Davik arrived with the other Nick, dragging it single-handedly. He dropped it unceremoniously in front of me, dusting off his hands. "There. Now get to work, genius."

I cracked my neck and rolled up my sleeves. "Time to earn my keep," I said, grinning.

Everyone settled into their roles. While Kado finished fussing over Mira, Arlos and Rina leaned against a nearby wall, taking a breather, and Davik kept watch for any signs of trouble. I got to work on the droids, starting with Skew-01.

Piece by piece, I began replacing damaged components and realigning circuits. The work was methodical, almost meditative. As I tinkered, my thoughts wandered back to the Force Null Sentinels. Their design was a masterstroke of engineering—far beyond anything we could build now. If I could reverse-engineer even a fraction of their systems, the possibilities were endless.

Of course, there was also the ethical question of whether I should do that, but I pushed the thought aside for now. First things first: get our droids operational. The rest could wait.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

I made an observation that this fic doesn't have that many readers in this site, so just a heads up that I may in the future just focus on the other sites. Perhaps my other fic in the works will fare better. Thank you for your time.

78 Chapters are available on my patreon

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JohnDoe22 · Mar 16, 2025

Hm, Knowing anything about the star wars universe. If the Jedi had something locked away. I would have just left after taking out the IG units. Curiosity and the cat and all that. Thank you for the chapter.

Jktorres.55 · Mar 17, 2025

Jake's P.O.V. :

With the emergency repairs on our Nick and Skew droids done, I had them run through a quick series of tests to check their mobility and range of movement. For machines that had been chewed up and spit out by battle, they were holding together surprisingly well. Sure, there were a few creaks and hesitations in their joints, but nothing critical. They could handle carrying our haul back to the Stellar Envoy without any issues.

"Good news, everyone," I announced, dusting off my hands. "The droids are ready to go. Between them and our scout droid—which, by some miracle, made it through that scrap with only a couple of scratches—we'll have an easier time hauling everything out of here."

Davik smirked. "And here I thought you were gonna ask us to lug that gear back ourselves."

"Nah," I said with a grin. "I'd never make you do manual labor when I've got perfectly good droids for that. What kind of genius would I be?"

That got a few chuckles from the crew, though Mira's was more of a tired snort. We were all running on fumes, the adrenaline from the fight wearing off and leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion. Still, the thought of heading back to the ship—our safe haven—put a little extra spring in our steps.

We'd decided to bring back the least damaged of the Force Null Sentinel droids and as many of the IG droids as we could reasonably carry. The Sentinel was the real prize—a relic from the Old Republic that practically hummed with potential. If I could reverse-engineer even a fraction of its systems, it would be a game-changer. As for the IG droids, they were less exciting but still valuable. I was confident I could repair and reprogram them, and having more droid support would always come in handy.

Rina had also picked through the wreckage and found some gear she thought might be useful—mostly weapon mods and some strange tools that looked ancient but well-maintained. She was already speculating about their origins, rattling off theories about Jedi craftsmanship and Sith relics. I only caught half of what she said, but the excitement in her voice was contagious.

With everything sorted and loaded up, we made our way back to the lift. The droids carried the bulk of the load, their servos whining softly as they maneuvered through the ruins. I kept a close eye on them, ready to jump in if anything went wrong, but they performed flawlessly. Even Skew-01, who looked like it had been through a Sarlacc's digestive system, was moving steadily.

As we rode the lift back up from the underground Vault, a strange mix of relief and exhaustion settled over the group. It felt like we'd been down there for weeks, not just the better part of a day. The air was fresher up here—well, as fresh as air could get on Malachor V—and the oppressive weight of the Vault's secrets seemed to lift slightly.

The trek back to the Stellar Envoy was uneventful, which was a blessing. The Ashen Wastes stretched out before us, a bleak expanse of gray and black that made our ship stand out like a beacon of hope.

As we approached, the sight of our freighter brought a wave of comfort. The Stellar Envoy might not be the flashiest ship in the galaxy, but it was ours. It was home.

Once we reached the ship, everyone fell into their roles without needing to be told. Rina and Arlos directed the droids, ensuring the cargo was loaded securely. Kado and Mira disappeared into the medbay, Mira grumbling the whole way about Kado fussing too much. Davik went to check the perimeter, his blaster drawn, always the cautious one.

I lingered outside for a moment, watching the last of the droids march up the ramp. This haul was a big one—maybe the biggest we'd ever scored. But it wasn't just about the tech or the gear. It was about what it represented. A piece of history, a chance to learn and grow, and maybe—just maybe—a step closer to making our mark on the galaxy.

As I stepped inside and the ramp closed behind me, I felt a rare sense of satisfaction. For now, at least, we'd earned some well-deserved downtime. And Maker knew we needed it.

Now, I know what you're thinking: Jake, why would you leave behind all those droids? Isn't that wasteful? The thing is, I didn't. Not entirely, anyway.

Remember when I mentioned "gear" being part of what the droids were hauling back? That included the good stuff—the armor plating, built-in weapon systems, and anything else worth salvaging. The rest? Well, let's just say those giant droids are more trouble than they're worth.

For starters, they're huge—like, an adult and a half in height. They're crammed with components that, to me, seem designed more to make them unnecessarily heavy than anything else. Between their sheer size and their excessive weight, there's no way we could haul all of them back to the Stellar Envoy. Not without some heavy-duty equipment we don't have. And honestly, the only things truly unique to them were their armor, weapons, and cores. We've already secured those. With what I've learned from these relics, I'm confident I can update the designs for my Skew and Nick droids, making them stronger and more efficient.

That brings me to the stuff we left behind in the underground caverns. See, I've learned my lesson about loose ends—this time, I made sure there were none. While tinkering with the grav machine Davik and Kado brought back, I figured out what made it tick. Turns out, it uses repulsor technology in a way I've never seen before. Normally, repulsors create anti-gravity fields for vehicles and such, but this setup could manipulate gravity in other ways. It's a rare glimpse into the Old Republic's ingenuity—specifically, the Republic from before the Ruusan Reformation, when the galaxy's tech and knowledge were at their peak.

With that knowledge in hand, I got creative. I reversed the grav machine's usual output, so instead of an anti-gravity field, it would multiply gravity in an area. Then I removed the limiters to let it overload, which would amplify the effect even more. Finally, I set a timer to activate it a quarter-hour after we left the caverns, ensuring we'd be long gone before it kicked in. By the time anyone else stumbles on that place, everything we left behind—Sentinels, IG droids, and all—will be nothing more than flattened scrap. A neat little trick to erase our trail.

See? I can be thorough. I can learn.

As we loaded up the Stellar Envoy, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride. Sure, leaving behind some of the droids felt like a waste, but in the grand scheme, we got what mattered. Between the Sentinel's armor and weapons, the IG droids I plan to repair and reprogram, and the newfound knowledge of the grav machine's technology, this was a haul for the holocrons.

And the icing on the cake? Knowing that no one else is getting their hands on the leftovers. I may not be a Jedi or some galactic historian, but I'm starting to appreciate just how much power lies in what you leave behind—or, in this case, destroy before anyone else can get to it.

For now, though, we're grounded. No taking off just yet. We're all dead on our feet, and we need time to regroup, plan, and figure out our next move. The galaxy isn't going anywhere, but with what we've learned today, we just might leave a dent in it someday.

As we approached the Stellar Envoy, we were greeted by an excited Tarek and a visibly relieved Shmi. The tension in her posture melted away as soon as she saw us, her lips curving into a soft, motherly smile. But one thing was missing.

"Where's Anakin?" I asked, glancing around for the little guy.

Shmi answered with a slight chuckle. "He got tired, so I sent him to rest. He didn't want to at first, but he finally nodded off."

Before I could reply, Tarek burst into an enthusiastic recount of how glad he was that we were alive and kicking. "I mean, when the scanners picked up faint energy spikes from deep underground, I got a bit worried, but I figured if anyone could handle it—"

Davik, raising an eyebrow, interrupted him with mock anger. "So, what? You were hoping we wouldn't make it back?"

Tarek froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air, completely flustered as he stammered out a denial. "N-No! That's not— I didn't— What I meant was—"

It wasn't until the rest of us broke out laughing that Tarek realized Davik had been pulling his leg. His face turned an amusing shade of pink as he finally groaned, "You guys are the worst."

Meanwhile, Shmi made her way to Mira, gently guiding her toward the medbay after greeting the rest of us. Her eyes lingered on Mira's injuries, her concern evident. Mira, predictably, protested, insisting she was fine, but Shmi's quiet determination won out.

As Tarek pestered Davik and Kado for every little detail about what had gone on inside the vault, Rina slipped away to the common area. She sat down at the data console, her expression already deep in focus as she began sorting through the files and fragments she'd recovered from the Sentinel droid.

I turned my attention to the Skew and Nick droids, ordering them to haul our salvage to the storage area. "Once everything's unloaded, head to the medbay—well, medbay-slash-engineering room—for docking. Let the modified medic droid patch you up until I can do some real repairs and upgrades."

Satisfied that the droids would handle it, I moved to my mobile tool station. I deposited all our broken gadgets into the sorter, watching as the machine's mechanisms whirred to life. It methodically analyzed each item, separating components into piles of reusable parts, recyclables, and raw materials.

I manually double-checked the piles, carefully setting aside anything that could still be of use. Every scrap had potential if you had the right know-how, and this mobile tool station—an incredible find from a previous salvage run—made it so much easier to maximize every haul.

For the first time in what felt like ages, I worked without interruptions. Hours passed in a blur as I tinkered, sorted, and planned. It wasn't until Shmi called out to me that I realized how much time had flown by.

"You need to eat," she said gently but firmly. "The others are sound asleep—except for Tarek, who's still bouncing off the walls with excitement from all the stories he's gotten out of Davik and Kado. But you need to rest too."

I glanced at her, noticing the exhaustion in her eyes despite the warm smile on her face. "What about you? Why aren't you resting?" I asked.

"I'll rest once I know you've eaten," she replied, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Relenting, I sat down at the table, where Shmi had already set out a simple meal. It wasn't fancy, but it hit the spot. By the time I finished, the weight of the day was finally catching up with me. I could feel the exhaustion in every muscle, every joint.

Shmi smiled when she saw me stifle a yawn. "Go on. Rest. You've earned it."

I nodded, deciding she was right. As much as part of me wanted to dive back into work, the pull of sleep was stronger. I made my way to my bunk, collapsing onto it with a sigh.

For once, I didn't lie awake thinking about what needed fixing or what I could improve. The last thing I remember before sleep claimed me was a fleeting sense of gratitude—that we'd made it back in one piece, that the haul was worth it, and that, for now, we could finally catch our breath.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

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Jktorres.55 · Mar 18, 2025

Jake's P.O.V. :

We were gathered in the common area of the Stellar Envoy, cramped but familiar. Kado, as usual, took charge to start the meeting. His calm and measured voice cut through the general chatter as he kicked things off.

"We need to debrief about our latest... expedition," he began, his gaze sweeping across the group. "Both the initial space station and what we found in the Ashen Wastes. Let's make sure we're all on the same page about what went down and what we've brought back."

I smirked as Kado tactfully avoided calling our adventure what it really was: tomb raiding. The others noticed too, judging by the subtle coughs and grins. Tarek, of course, didn't even bother to hide his amusement. "You mean the part where we robbed a crypt full of killer droids?"

Kado shot him a look but didn't rise to the bait, and we all chuckled before settling in for the serious discussion.

We went over the highlights—the Sentinel droids, the IG models, and the grav machine I'd rigged to flatten anything we left behind. Rina gave a concise report about the data she'd extracted, while I filled in details about the Sentinel droids' components and how they could inspire upgrades for our own tech. It was a strange mix of pride and exhaustion, recounting what we'd accomplished and what we'd survived.

The conversation naturally shifted toward what came next. That was my cue.

"I have a proposal," I said, sitting forward. All eyes turned to me, and I couldn't help but feel a little nervous—not that I'd ever admit it. "I say we lay low for a while, but not by sitting idle. Let's actively hunt pirates and slavers."

A ripple of interest spread through the group, though Kado's expression stayed carefully neutral. I pushed on.

"Think about it. It gives us a chance to test the upgrades I plan to make—on the droids, the ship, and the crew's combat gear. And," I added with a sly grin, "it'd give us a chance to deal with certain... unresolved issues."

"Gardulla," Davik said flatly, crossing his arms.

"Gardulla," I confirmed.

The room buzzed with murmurs. It wasn't hard to see that the others were warming up to the idea, even if the revenge part wasn't their main motivation.

Tarek raised his hand like we were in school. "Do I get combat armor?"

I rolled my eyes. "Everyone gets armor."

"Sweet!" Tarek grinned, clearly satisfied.

The conversation gained momentum after that, moving fluidly between my pitch and the other suggestions. Davik laid out a detailed report about our current gear and tactics, emphasizing where we needed to shore up. Mira chimed in with ideas for other ways to lay low, like taking on less risky salvage jobs or working as freelance couriers.

Then Rina, never one to shy away from bold ideas, dropped her suggestion like a thermal detonator. "We need a bigger ship."

Tarek practically jumped out of his seat. "What? No! I love this ship!"

"I'm just saying," Rina said, shrugging, "we're pushing the limits of what the Stellar Envoy can handle. It's not about replacing it—it's about expanding our options."

"I'm with Tarek," I cut in. "This ship is iconic. And I still haven't renamed it the Millennium Falcon yet."

My inner monologue kicked in as everyone groaned or rolled their eyes. Yeah, yeah, I know it's a weird obsession. Bite me.

Kado steered us back on track with a raised hand. "Let's table the ship discussion for now. Right now, we need to focus on logistics and supplies. We're burning through resources faster than we're replenishing them."

And just like that, the meeting shifted gears again. It wasn't as exciting as battle plans or revenge schemes, but it was the kind of practical talk that kept us alive. Rina opened up the ship's inventory logs, Kado talked numbers, and the rest of us chimed in with suggestions about restocking, repairs, and potential trade routes.

The meeting stretched into hours, but nobody complained. We were all invested in keeping this ragtag operation afloat—and, more importantly, in figuring out how to turn everything we'd gained into something even better.

The meeting dragged on until what I figured was midday—hard to tell on this Force-forsaken planet with its eternally gray skies. As soon as we wrapped up, I excused myself, heading off to the mobile tool station. There was work to do.

I programmed the station to fabricate some of the parts I'd need for my next round of gadgets and upgrades. With that out of the way, I made a beeline for the Engineering-slash-Medical room to check on the droids.

Meanwhile, the rest of the crew was busy running scans of the surrounding area and orbit, just in case someone decided to sneak up on us. A solid plan, really. The last thing we needed was to get caught with our pants down. Unless, of course, it was by Mira or Rina— By the stars, Jake, what in blazes is wrong with you? My cheeks burned, and I slapped them lightly in a frantic attempt to shove the thought out of my brain.

Once I got my focus back, I gave the droids a thorough inspection. The Nick and Skew units were functionally back to one hundred percent. Visually? Not so much. Dents, scrapes, and some battle scars still marked their chassis. But I wasn't worried. That would all be covered up soon enough with the phrik armor I had planned. I could already see the terror on the faces of any pirates or slavers foolish enough to cross us.

That thought made me laugh—a deep, triumphant bwahaha that grew louder and more dramatic with each passing second. I was so caught up in my villainous daydream that I didn't even notice Anakin enter the room until he was standing there, arms crossed, giving me a look like a kid fed up with his older brother's antics.

I froze mid-laugh, cleared my throat, and awkwardly greeted him. "Uh, hey, kiddo. What's up?"

"I'm glad you're okay," he said simply, though his little face still carried traces of worry.

His words hit me harder than I expected, and I knelt down halfway so we could see eye to eye. "I'm fine, Anakin. See?" I gestured to myself dramatically. "Not a scratch on me. And don't worry—I've got plot armor."

The joke sailed right over his head. "Why would you wear flat armor instead of regular armor?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

That sent me into another round of laughter, this time more genuine and less evil mastermind. Anakin watched me for a moment, confused, before deciding to laugh along—even if he didn't quite get what was so funny.

After our little skit, I reached out and ruffled his hair. "Don't worry so much, all right? We'll be careful. Promise."

He nodded, his worry easing a bit. Then I got an idea. "Hey, wanna help me out with the droids?"

His face lit up like a freshly tuned lightsaber. "Can I? Really?"

"Of course," I said, standing up. "C'mon, kid. Let me show you how to make these clankers even better."

Together, we dove into the repairs, his excitement infectious as I guided him through the basics. Moments like this? They made all the chaos worthwhile.

It's easy to forget sometimes that Anakin is only almost four. The kid's questions, even wrapped in kid-speak, showed a sharpness that would make any technician proud. He didn't just sit back and watch; he got involved.

Before I could even ask for a hydrospanner, he was handing it to me. The little guy somehow knew exactly what I needed and when, like he was reading my mind—or maybe just that attuned to the work. When I had to move to another part of the droid, he'd quietly scoot out of the way, clearing the space without me saying a word.

It wasn't just helpful—it was downright amazing. I made a mental note to remember moments like this whenever he decided to dismantle something he shouldn't later on.

As we worked, I started explaining things to him, giving him the basics of droids and mechanics. He soaked it all up, tossing in small suggestions that, while not perfectly articulated, had a surprising amount of insight. "What if this part was smaller so it could go faster?" he'd ask, or, "Why doesn't this piece protect the shiny one?" pointing to an exposed conduit.

I'd pause every now and then to grin at his questions and respond, "That's a great point, but let me show you why it's done this way," before explaining. His excitement was infectious, and honestly, I was having the time of my life teaching him.

But, of course, the universe has a way of reminding you it's still turning.

Our little bonding session was interrupted by Shmi's call from the corridor. "Jake, Anakin! Midday meal is ready!"

I wiped my hands on a rag and gave Anakin a grin. "Well, kiddo, looks like we're getting fed."

He nodded eagerly, already darting toward the door with the energy only a kid his age could have. I chuckled as I followed, thinking about how much I enjoyed our little moment.

Then, as I crossed into the corridor, a thought hit me. Wait a second. If Shmi's calling us for midday meal now… then the meeting earlier wasn't midday at all. I let out a short laugh at the realization. Time really did blur when you were busy—or when you had a certain little genius distracting you.

As we all settled down for the meal, Kado shared some news. "Mira found us a solid route in orbit," he started, gesturing with his fork for emphasis. "It'll take us near a hyperspace lane and get us off this rock finally."

The mood at the table lightened a bit at that. This planet, with its endless gray skies and oppressive air, was wearing on all of us.

Kado continued, "Tarek's been testing the route in the simulators, factoring in the pirate band, those goons Gardulla likely sent after us, and the other salvager crews."

"Wait, they're still up there?" I asked, surprised. "I mean, I get the persistence, but it feels like forever since we ducked down here."

"Well," Mira said with a smirk, "that's because you've been neck-deep in circuits and droid guts for hours at a time. For the rest of us, it's only been a day."

The table shared a light laugh at my expense, and I took it in stride. They weren't wrong.

After the meal, everyone got to their respective tasks. I headed back to the medbay to make sure the droids were properly docked and charging. The last thing I wanted was to lose functionality mid-flight if we ran into trouble.

From there, I went to the storage room to double-check our tools and supplies. Everything had to be secure for what I was anticipating would be another rough takeoff. My mind buzzed with plans and ideas for upgrades, but I pushed them aside for now—there'd be time for that once we were safely off this rock.

The others were busy with their own preparations. Davik and Mira manned the turrets, ensuring they were primed and ready, while Rina and Kado double-checked the flight path Mira had plotted. Shmi helped Tarek run pre-flight diagnostics from the cockpit, keeping him on task despite his excitement.

And then there was Anakin.

The little guy trailed behind me like a faithful shadow, his wide eyes taking in everything I did. He didn't say much, just watched, occasionally nodding like he was memorizing each step. It was honestly kind of endearing.

When I finished my checks, I glanced back at him. "You know, you're making a pretty good assistant."

He beamed at the compliment, his little face lighting up in a way that made me chuckle.

Once everyone was satisfied with their prep work, we strapped ourselves into our seats, bracing for what I knew was going to be another bumpy ride. As the engines roared to life and the ship began to rumble, I couldn't help but glance at the cockpit and mutter to myself with a smirk, "Let's see if you've got this, Tarek."

Here's hoping the Stellar Envoy could once again get us out of a tight spot.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

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Jktorres.55 · Mar 19, 2025

Jake's P.O.V. :

My grip tightened on my seat as the Stellar Envoy dodged another turbolaser shot from a hostile starship. We still didn't know if it was a pirate ship, a hired merc vessel, or another salvage crew trying to play dirty. At the moment, staying alive took priority over asking questions—though I'm pretty sure when we did figure out who they were, it would be a unanimous vote for payback.

Now, you might be wondering why we're getting lit up by turbolaser fire. I don't want to point fingers… but it's totally Rina's fault. She'd given a very convincing argument about why it might be worthwhile to check the debris field where that space station on Malachor V blew up before we left the system entirely. Her reasoning? The self-destruct probably didn't destroy everything, and whatever survived could be worth a fortune. Plus, she argued, the other opportunists hanging around—pirates, Gardulla's mercs, and other scavengers—might not realize that the wreckage wasn't just another heap of junk but the location connected to the Old Republic Era Relic.

I keep calling it a relic, but it turns out it's actually a memory chip from a droid. Specifically, it matches the design and functionality of the custom-built bodyguard-protocol hybrid droid we encountered in that same space station before it self-destructed. A relic of the pre-Ruusan Reformation Old Republic.

Anyway, Rina's arguments were so convincing that she sold me on the idea, and I… may have sold the rest of the crew on it too. In hindsight, maybe we should've considered the potential for a hostile reception before diving into the debris field. But hey, hindsight is 20/20, right?

When we arrived, the situation went south fast. We spotted a corsair starship scouring the area, and as soon as they saw us, they opened fire. No warning, no negotiation—just turbolasers. Clearly, these folks weren't interested in sharing.

Tarek's voice came over the comms, as cool as ever despite the chaos. "Evasive maneuvers. Shields holding at ninety four percent."

"Make them hold longer," Kado snapped, gripping the edge of his console. "Davik, you've got a lock on their position?"

Davik's response was a grunt as he adjusted the targeting systems. "Yeah, but they're not giving us an opening. Gotta wait for the right moment."

Meanwhile, Mira was in the back, monitoring our systems and rerouting power to the shields as needed. Rina… well, let's just say she had the grace to look sheepish. "For the record," she said, "I'd like to point out that this was a calculated risk."

I shot her a look. "Yeah? Well, next time, let's calculate a little harder."

A sudden jolt nearly threw me out of my seat as another shot skimmed our shields. Alarms blared, and I could feel the tension ratchet up even higher. That wasn't just a warning shot; these guys really wanted us dead.

"Jake!" Mira's voice broke through my thoughts. "We need more power to the engines if we're going to outrun them."

"On it!" I bolted for the engineering console and began rerouting auxiliary power. The Stellar Envoy wasn't a warship, but she'd been through enough scrapes that I knew how to push her to her limits.

As I worked, my mind raced. Whoever these attackers were, they weren't random amateurs. Their turbolaser shots were precise and mostly aimed for the kill, and their ship had enough firepower to blow us out of the sky if we weren't careful. But what bothered me the most was their timing. They'd been here, waiting, as if they knew someone would come sniffing around the debris field. Was this a coincidence? Or were we walking into a trap? Or I'm just really really paranoid? The Vault location wasn't unique information limited to us though, oh that's it! I am just paranoid.

"Brace yourselves!" Tarek's voice rang out, and I barely had time to grab onto the nearest railing before the Envoy banked hard to port, narrowly avoiding another barrage. The sound of the shots reverberating off our shields was a grim reminder of how close we were to disaster.

I glanced at the readout. "Shields down to seventy percent," I called out. "We're not going to last much longer if we keep taking hits like that."

"We just need to hold out until Davik can get a clean shot," Kado said, his tone steely.

Davik grinned, his fingers dancing over the controls. "Almost there. Just keep us alive for another thirty seconds."

"Easier said than done," I muttered, my hands flying over the console as I pushed the engines even harder. The ship groaned in protest, but she held together.

As the tension reached its peak, Davik let out a triumphant shout. "Gotcha! Firing now!"

The Stellar Envoy shuddered as our cannons unleashed a salvo of fire. Through the viewport, I saw one of the enemy ship's turbolaser arrays explode in a brilliant burst of light.

"Uh, that wasn't me." Davik's voiced out, and then Arlos' voice was heard. "Sorry for taking your shot sir"

"Direct hit! Good job Arlos!" Tarek cheered.

"They're not out yet," Kado warned. "Let's not celebrate until we're clear."

I nodded, my focus returning to the task at hand. "Let's finish this and get the hell out of here."

The chase wasn't even halfway done when Tarek's voice came over the comms, tinged with a nervous edge that was uncharacteristic for him. "Wide-range scanners are picking up more incoming ships."

My stomach dropped. "Could it be just random debris or wreckage headed in our direction?" I asked, hoping against hope.

Tarek's reply dashed that hope. "Random debris doesn't do evasive maneuvers inside a debris field."

Before I could respond, Mira surprised us all by exclaiming, "Wait! One of the blips just disappeared!"

"What do you mean disappeared?" Kado demanded.

Mira's voice was quick and confident. "They're not all on the same team. Somebody just got taken out."

Tarek, ever the optimist, surprised us even further. "Well, with those odds, I might be able to work something out."

I raised an eyebrow, half-impressed, half-concerned. "Really? You sound awfully confident for someone who just mentioned more baddies showing up."

Kado wasn't buying it either. "We shouldn't leave it all to Tarek. Any suggestions on how to increase our chances?"

Always ready with a plan, I piped up. "We could build a camouflage module for the Stellar Envoy. It would let us blend into the debris field like another piece of scrap. But…" I hesitated, "that's going to take time, and it definitely doesn't help us right now."

Mira chimed in next. "What about releasing a disruptive signal? Overload their sensors, make it harder for them to pick us out of the mess."

Rina immediately shot that down. "Nice try, but the debris field's already messing with everyone's scanners. It's like trying to add more noise to a crowded party—no one's going to notice."

Then I heard a small, determined voice from beside me. "We should hide in the sand."

I blinked, realizing it was Anakin. He was seated next to me, his big blue eyes staring up with the innocent confidence of a three-year-old who believed he had the solution to every problem. Shmi, seated opposite him, gently smiled and clarified.

"In Tatooine, if you want to survive, you pretend to be part of your surroundings. You blend in, move slow, and wait for danger to pass."

I raised my eyebrows, processing the logic. "That's… not bad, actually."

But seriously, hiding like that? My mind flashed to a scene from back on Earth, from Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2. Drax watching Peter and Gamora awkwardly try to have a moment, standing completely still and insisting they couldn't see him because he was being "invisible." I could still remember choking on my soda at the theater when I saw that—cola shot out my nose, and I couldn't stop laughing. But pulling something like that off in space? Yeah, not happening.

Just as I was about to dismiss the idea as unworkable, I noticed Rina's eyes light up like she'd just had an epiphany. "Wait a second," she muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.

"What?" I asked cautiously.

She grinned. "Mira's disruptive signal idea wasn't bad. It just needs a tweak. Instead of trying to confuse their scanners with more noise, we use the debris field itself. Make the debris, the wreckage, and us mimic each other randomly. Scatter our signal signatures, mess with their targeting systems, and make it impossible to tell where we are."

I frowned. "That's… tactical stuff, not mechanical. Definitely out of my wheelhouse."

Rina rolled her eyes. "Leave it to me, genius. Just get ready to keep us flying."

Fair enough. Tactical wasn't my strong suit—my Tech Savant advantage was strictly mechanical. But if Rina thought she could pull it off, I wasn't going to argue.

"Alright," I said, "if you can make it work, do it. But don't expect me to understand how it works. I'll just nod and act impressed."

Rina smirked. "Oh, don't worry, Jake. You'll be impressed. Just try to have Tarek not to crash the ship while I work my magic."

And with that, she was off to implement her plan. All I could do now was trust her and keep us alive long enough to see it work.

A few moments later, Rina returned from the engineering bay, looking smug as ever after implementing her so-called "magic." Without a word, she made her way to the cockpit, her determined stride suggesting she was ready to prove just how clever her plan was.

From the common area, we heard the muffled exchange between her and Tarek as she patched our scanners to emit the disruptive signal she'd described. It was clear from Tarek's excited exclamations that her plan was already showing promise.

"Alright, crew," Tarek's voice came over the comms. "Secure yourselves and prepare for a bumpy flight."

As if the flight hadn't been bumpy enough already. (Notice the sarcasm in my internal monologue.) Still, we did as instructed—well, those of us who weren't already buckled in.

From the central data console in the common area, we watched as the situation unfolded. The corsair ship was still hot on our tail, though its firepower had been slightly diminished thanks to Davik—or rather, Arlos—taking out one of its turbolasers earlier. As we closed the distance to the additional ships Tarek had spotted, it became clear they were headed straight for us as well.

Tarek weaved the Stellar Envoy through the debris field like a fish darting through water, the ship twisting and banking so smoothly that I almost forgot how much danger we were in. Almost.

Then we saw it. Through the console feed, the visual of the new arrivals came into range, and just as Mira had suspected, they weren't all on the same side. The newcomers opened fire on each other almost immediately, turbolaser bolts lighting up the field in a chaotic dance of destruction.

Meanwhile, the corsair's targeting systems—along with those of the other ships—started going haywire. Turbolaser fire veered off-course, striking random debris instead of us or their intended targets. The sudden randomness of their shots confirmed that Rina's plan had worked.

"Nice!" I said, then feigned a dramatic gasp. "I knew it! You're a witch!"

Rina's head popped into view from the cockpit doorway just so she could give me an exaggerated eye roll. "And yet, somehow, you're still alive. You're welcome."

Despite the tension, a small laugh rippled through the common area.

With the chaos behind us and the enemy ships too distracted by each other and the false signals to focus on us, our escape to the hyperspace lane became much easier. The Stellar Envoy glided past the worst of the debris and the skirmish, finally breaking free from the immediate threat.

Tarek's voice cut through the ship's comms one last time as the starfield around us stretched into the familiar blur of hyperspace. "We're clear. Malachor V is officially in the rearview."

I leaned back in my seat, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Well, that's one adventure I'm not in a hurry to repeat."

Mira grinned from her spot by the console. "I don't know, Jake. I think we all learned something important today."

"What's that?" I asked warily.

"That Rina's magic is real," she teased.

Rina, now fully back in the common area, gave an exaggerated sigh. "I'm going to regret saving all of you, aren't I?"

"Probably," I replied with a smirk. "But you can't deny it—you love us."

And just like that, our Malachor V escapade was finally over.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

79 Chapters are available on my patreon

you can support me and become a patron
P A T R E O N . C O M / TofferPlays
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Jktorres.55 · Mar 21, 2025

Jake's P.O.V. :

The last phrik armor plating clicked into place with a satisfying snap on Skew-02's chassis. I took a step back, crossing my arms to admire my handiwork. There they stood—five droids, gleaming under the workshop lights, their polished surfaces practically daring the galaxy to mess with us. My heart swelled with a mix of pride and excitement, and I had to fight the overwhelming urge to dance like a lunatic. But I wasn't alone, so I settled for a smug grin instead.

Shmi, Anakin, and Arlos had been my trusty assistants during this whole upgrade process. Shmi's mechanical skills had grown immensely since she joined the crew; Anakin, as always, peppered us with wild, imaginative ideas; and Arlos was the reliable hand that kept everything running smoothly. Surprisingly, it was Anakin's random, childlike suggestions that sparked some of my best innovations.

Take, for example, the foam launcher I'd added to the Skew droids. It wasn't exactly what Anakin had suggested—he'd been rambling about how cool it would be if droids could spit "sticky sand" like the stuff in his Tatooine stories—but it gave me the idea for a non-lethal containment tool. Then there were the stun settings for the blaster bolts on both the Skew and Nick droids. The crew wasn't always keen on killing, and this gave us options.

The pièce de résistance, though, was the grav-tech integration. Our adventure on Malachor V had exposed me to some fascinating gravity manipulation tech, and I'd spent sleepless nights figuring out how to adapt it. Now, both the Skew and Nick droids could modify their weight dynamically, enabling them to jump higher, slow their descent, or stabilize themselves in tricky terrain. The same tech inspired an upgrade to my gauntlets.

The gauntlets were now phrik-plated and equipped with grav-tech functions, allowing me to push or pull a selected target. I programmed specific hand gestures as activation triggers—an elegant solution, if I do say so myself—but the system was a power hog. For now, I had to tether the gauntlets to a wearable power pack strapped to my back. Not the most subtle setup, but it worked.

Another breakthrough came from reverse-engineering the active camouflage used by the IG droids we'd faced on Malachor V. The shimmer effect we'd noticed wasn't a flaw in their tech, per se, but a limitation: the system struggled to keep up with real-time reflections. Blaster fire disrupted the camouflage because of the sudden light flare, not the damage itself. By adding a dedicated processor to assist the main one, I managed to reduce the shimmer. It wasn't perfect, but the camouflage now held steady even under fire.

As I stood there, drinking in the sight of my upgraded droids, the hum of the mobile tool station pulled me out of my reverie. The machine beeped, announcing the completion of printing the armor parts for our combat gear.

This next project was just as exciting. While we couldn't exactly run around the galaxy wearing Mandalorian-style armor without attracting the wrong kind of attention, we still needed protection. I'd designed modular armor pieces to cover the areas we were most likely to get hit—forearms, shins, shoulders, chest, and back. It wasn't a full suit, but it was flexible, lightweight, and came with a few "gimmicks" I couldn't resist throwing in.

I turned to the others, wiping my hands on a rag. "Looks like it's time to start assembling the combat armor."

Anakin's eyes lit up, and he hopped excitedly from foot to foot. "Can I have rockets on mine?"

Shmi gave him a stern look. "Anakin, you don't even like heights."

Arlos smirked. "I think the kid just wants to look cool."

"Don't we all?" I chuckled, ruffling Anakin's hair. "Let's get to work, team."

As we dove into the next phase of our upgrades, I couldn't help but feel a surge of optimism. We'd faced some serious challenges on Malachor V, but with these upgrades, we were more prepared than ever for whatever the galaxy threw our way.

The last piece of armor clicked into its designated storage case with a satisfying finality. We'd grouped the parts by their intended owner, each set customized to fit our individual needs and fighting styles. As I stood back to admire the neatly organized work, my stomach growled—right on cue.

"Perfect timing," I muttered, setting my tools aside. It was afternoon, and I was already looking forward to the meal we'd planned. It was rare to have a moment like this, a proper downtime after the madness that was our Malachor V escapade just five days ago.

It honestly amazed me how much I'd been able to accomplish in such a short time. Between the mobile tool station—a find I was now convinced was the MVP of our haul—and the crew's help, we'd upgraded the droids, started on our combat armor, and even made tweaks to the Stellar Envoy. Efficiency, thy name is necessity.

The others wouldn't be back until tonight. They'd gone out to meet with a fence to sell off some of our haul—stuff we couldn't reuse or repurpose—and to strike a deal with local smugglers for additional living supplies. We weren't exactly running low, but Kado had insisted that having a backup source was critical. "Better to have it and not need it," he'd said, which, to be fair, made sense.

I'd wanted to tag along, but the vote had been unanimous: I was staying behind.

"Your luck is suspiciously attractive to trouble," Mira had teased, crossing her arms.

"There's always good stuff," Kado had added with a smirk. "But it always comes with trouble as its plus-one."

I couldn't exactly argue with that. The past few months had proven their point repeatedly, but still, staying behind felt like being benched.

To make things worse, I didn't even have the excuse of exploring to pass the time. This planet—Ord Mantell—was a total blind spot for me. I didn't remember it from the Star Wars movies back on Earth, though I had a vague memory of it being mentioned in other media. Without my crewmates here, it wasn't like I could wander around and gather intel without potentially inviting trouble.

Instead, I found myself in a strange, almost nostalgic mood. I walked to the central data console in the ship's common area and pulled up a map of Ord Mantell. The planet had a mix of bustling trade hubs, junkyards, and shady backstreets, and it reminded me a little of Tatooine, but with more infrastructure and fewer sandstorms.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "Guess I'll stick to tinkering until they get back."

Anakin and Shmi were in their quarters, likely resting after helping with the upgrades. Arlos had retreated to the cockpit, probably keeping watch just in case. That left me with some rare alone time—a perfect opportunity to fine-tune my gauntlets or brainstorm ideas for future projects.

As much as I wanted to complain about being stuck on the ship, I couldn't deny the truth: they were probably right. My "luck" might just make today a lot more complicated if I ventured out. So, for now, I'd focus on the things I could control.

The droids and combat armor projects were done, their final pieces secured and ready. I stood in the common area, staring at the storage compartment that housed the disassembled IG droids from Malachor V and the enigmatic bodyguard-slash-protocol droid we salvaged from the self-destructed station. The temptation to dive into either of those projects was strong. Both were goldmines of tech and mystery, but they also felt... heavy. I wasn't in the mood for heavy.

That's when Anakin's little droid companion rolled by, its unimaginative name—Zero—bringing a small, sheepish grin to my face. Yeah, I named it, and yeah, I could've done better. The tiny droid, with its simple design and endearing wobble, sparked an idea.

Without overthinking it, I headed to Anakin's quarters. "Hey, kid," I said, peeking in. He was playing with some scraps I'd given him earlier, pretending they were parts of a podracer. "Want to help me upgrade your little buddy here?"

Anakin's face lit up, and his enthusiastic nod came with a smile so big it could power the Stellar Envoy. Was that a twinkle in his eye? Must've been my imagination.

"Alright, grab Zero. Let's get to work," I said, carrying the little droid toward the tool station. On our way, I called out loud enough for Shmi to hear, "I'm borrowing Anakin to upgrade his droid playmate!"

Her response came from somewhere deeper in the ship. "Okay! Be careful, and have fun!"

We settled at the station, and Anakin immediately began rattling off ideas. Most of them were what you'd expect from a kid his age—fun, whimsical, and borderline absurd. He wanted Zero to blast cool air for hot days, have hidden compartments for snacks, turn into a speeder he could ride, and even take care of his "ouchies." I chuckled at each suggestion, jotting them down mentally.

"All good ideas," I told him. "But some of them might need tweaking to make them work."

As we started, I explained the process of compatibility and size constraints, breaking it down so a three-year-old could understand. To my surprise, Anakin was surprisingly patient and curious, peppering me with questions and suggestions as I worked.

The first upgrade was practical: I added small vents for a cooling system. It wasn't powerful, but it could emit enough cool air to make a hot day bearable. Next were hidden compartments—one for snacks and another for small tools or trinkets. Anakin's face lit up as I showed him how to open and close the panels.

But the big-ticket upgrade was the speeder idea. Anakin wanted a rideable droid, and who was I to deny the kid his dream? I designed folding parts that could transform Zero into a floating speeder bike. It took some effort to integrate safety features, like a harness, stabilizers, and a weight sensor to prevent accidental tips. As I tightened the last bolt, I couldn't help but grin.

"There," I said, stepping back. "Zero's now officially the coolest ride on the block."

Anakin cheered, hopping onto the transformed droid for a test run. It hovered smoothly, and the safety features kicked in just as intended. I made a mental note to add a speed limiter; no way was I going to risk Shmi hunting me down because her kid got a broken arm riding a souped-up droid.

Not all of Anakin's ideas were workable, though. He wanted Zero to split into copies, which was theoretically possible using holographic tech, but the energy requirements and limitations made it impractical for something this small, and the copies will all be blue. Then there was his dream of a droid that could transform into a giant mech or summon one.

I chuckled at that. "Buddy, trust me, I'd love to build a giant robot. But the materials, power supply, and storage space? Not happening anytime soon."

Surprisingly, Anakin took the news in stride, though he was visibly disappointed. No tantrums, no fuss—just an exaggerated sigh and a shrug. For a moment, I marveled at how mature he could be, despite being so young.

It hit me then: I was having a legitimate discussion about engineering feasibility with a toddler. If someone had told me this would be my life a year ago, I'd have laughed in their face. But here I was, arguing the logistics of holographic decoys and giant mechs with a kid who wasn't even four - My life is weird.

By the time we finished, the sun had set, casting a soft orange glow through the ship's viewport. Shmi appeared just as I was tidying up, calling Anakin for bedtime. "Come on, sweetheart. Time to get ready for bed."

"Okay, Mom!" Anakin said, grinning ear to ear as he showed off Zero's new features.

Shmi gave me a warm smile. "Thanks for keeping him entertained."

"Anytime," I said, watching as she guided Anakin toward their quarters.

As if on cue, the rest of the crew returned, the sounds of boots and muffled voices filling the ship. Mira's laughter, Kado's grumbling, and Davik's occasional quip told me their errands had gone smoothly.

It was a good day—a rare, peaceful day. And as I stood there, tools in hand, I couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride. Maybe I was still the guy with "trouble magnet" luck, but today? Today was all about the little wins.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

79 Chapters are available on my patreon

you can support me and become a patron
P A T R E O N . C O M / TofferPlays
(but only if you want to, okay?)

This fanfic is also on:

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Jktorres.55 · Mar 22, 2025

Jake's P.O.V. :

The day after Anakin and I had our little workshop adventure with Zero—seriously, I'm still debating how to subtly get Anakin to agree to a name change, but the kid loves it—the crew gathered for a meeting. This wasn't the usual, "What's for breakfast?" or "Who's fixing the coolant leak?" type of gathering. It was strategy time.

Kado took the lead, as usual. He opened by summarizing the deals he, Davik, and Tarek had closed the day before. Turns out, the haul from Malachor V sold better than expected. No surprise there—ancient tech and rare alloys always find eager buyers among smugglers and shady dealers. They'd also established some promising contacts with smugglers willing to trade for our living supplies. "Backup plans," Kado had insisted. "Can't rely on luck alone."

Next up were Mira and Rina. They shared what they'd gleaned from cantinas and bars around Ord Mantell. Their recon revealed a mix of local gossip and galactic news. Nothing earth-shattering, but enough to paint a picture of shifting power plays, escalating tensions, and opportunities ripe for the taking—if we were bold (or reckless) enough. Most of their focus had been on outer rim developments, but they flagged a few Core-related tidbits just in case they became relevant.

When it came to my turn, I grinned. "Alright, everyone, I've got something to show you." I motioned to the central table where I'd prepped a little display of the freshly upgraded droids and combat armors. Zero stood front and center, to Anakin's delight. His wide-eyed expression alone was worth the effort.

"First off," I began, gesturing toward the droids, "here are the upgrades. Skew and Nick droids are now sporting phrik armor plating, upgraded grav modules for enhanced mobility—high jumps, slowed descents—and stun settings on their blasters. Oh, and I may or may not have perfected the active camouflage tech we 'borrowed' from those IG droids."

I gave a playful smirk as I continued. "Even Zero got a makeover. He's now Anakin's all-terrain, snack-stashing, wound-tending, scooter-riding companion." Anakin beamed, and the rest of the crew chuckled good-naturedly.

Then I moved on to the combat armors. I'd grouped the sets by intended user, each one tailored for its future wearer. "These beauties," I said, patting one of the sleek chest plates, "come equipped with grav modules for assisted mobility, gauntlet-mounted energy shields, and a multi-sensor suite—heat, radiation, night vision, you name it. Plus, they're modular, so if anyone wants tweaks—different colors, custom insignias, whatever—let me know."

The room practically buzzed with excitement. Even Kado, usually the level-headed one, couldn't resist reaching for his set. "Alright, everyone, calm down," I said, trying to keep a straight face as the crew all but mobbed the table.

Shmi gave me a warm smile. "You've outdone yourself again, Jake. Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," I replied with a wink. "Try them on first. Let me know if there are any issues. Also," I added, shooting a glance at Anakin, "don't go jumping off high places just because you can, okay?"

Anakin nodded solemnly, but I caught the glint of mischief in his eyes. Yep, I'm gonna need to keep an eye on him—and maybe install an emergency override in Zero's systems, just in case.

After everyone had a chance to test their combat armor—minus the helmets because apparently, we weren't that serious yet—we regrouped around the holotable to resume the meeting. The mood was lighter, thanks to the excitement over the new gear, but things quickly shifted as Mira and Rina started talking about the rumors they'd picked up during their recon.

"Word is," Mira began, leaning forward with her arms crossed, "that Jabba's got some of his hands mixed into the mess around Malachor V. Those ships we ran into? They weren't just random scavengers or bounty hunters—they were part of a bigger scrap. Someone spread the word about treasure from the Old Republic era buried in the debris field. Classic bait-and-brawl."

Rina nodded, adding, "If Jabba's involved, it tracks. I've heard whispers that he's been making moves to knock Gardulla off her perch. Might've even planted a slicer in Gardulla's payroll to stir the pot."

Davik chimed in, his brow furrowed. "If that's true, it would explain a lot. One of Gardulla's slicers must've been playing double-agent for Jabba, feeding him info. And that whole mess we stumbled into? Just another play in his takeover bid."

Kado, who'd been quietly processing, suddenly sat up straight, his eyes wide. "Wait a minute. If Jabba's the one gunning for Gardulla, then he's the reason Gardulla triggered that karking manhunt back on Tatooine!" He turned to me, incredulous. "You mean to tell me we weren't even the real target? And we still had to blow up my shop?!"

I raised my hands defensively, trying to hide a grin. "Hey, I didn't say it made sense, just that it might be true."

Kado's expression turned sour, like he'd just bitten into a bad ration pack. I couldn't blame him. Losing his shop was a big deal, and being reminded that it might've been over nothing definitely stung.

Rina, ever the pragmatist, broke the silence. "If Jabba pulls it off and Gardulla's out of the picture, maybe we'll finally have a chance to go back to Tatooine. I've still got assets there I'm not ready to leave behind. I'm guessing I'm not the only one?"

Kado, Mira, and Davik exchanged glances, each nodding in turn. No surprises there. They'd all left behind something they cared about when we bolted off-world.

Before we could dwell on the past too much, Arlos, sitting with his usual unshakable calm, spoke up. "So… does this mean we're going to start hunting pirates and slavers while we wait for all that to shake out?"

We all turned to him, a mix of surprise and amusement on our faces. The suggestion hung in the air for a moment before we collectively started nodding.

"You know," Mira said with a sly grin, "he's got a point. It's not a bad way to keep credits coming in—and maybe dent some of those scugholes' operations while we're at it."

"Matches what Jake said back on Tatooine," Davik added, smirking at me. "What was it? 'We're not just scavengers. We're going to make a difference in this galaxy.'"

I groaned, feeling my face heat up. "Okay, okay, I get it. That was cringey, and I'd like to move past it now, thanks."

The others laughed, but their grins said they were on board. The thought of taking on pirates and slavers wasn't just practical—it was downright satisfying. We'd been through hell together, and now we had the tools, the skills, and the reason to strike back against the scum of the galaxy.

With that, the meeting dissolved into plans. We started mapping out potential routes, identifying hot zones for pirate activity, and figuring out how to tweak the Stellar Envoy for more combat readiness. It was messy, chaotic, and filled with more enthusiasm than precision, but we didn't care.

We were scrappy, unpolished, and, let's be honest, probably way in over our heads. But as I looked around the table at my crew—my family—I couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement.

The galaxy didn't know it yet, but we were coming for it.

We didn't immediately leap into the wider galaxy to kick off our hunt. No, that wasn't our style. We needed proper plans—solid ones with backup contingencies, just in case things went sideways. They always seemed to, after all.

Mira, Rina, and Davik headed out first, combing through cantinas, trading posts, and anywhere else rumors flowed like cheap Corellian ale. Their mission? Find intel on nearby pirate hideouts and slaver hotspots. I didn't envy the bar-hopping, but I did hope they'd keep a low profile.

Meanwhile, Kado and Tarek took over the cockpit. From the sounds filtering back, they were working on charting routes, flight plans, and fallback points. It was comforting, in a way, knowing our resident pilot and Kado's tactical brain were hashing out how we'd move when the time came.

As for me? I had my hands full with tweaking the combat armor. The others had left behind detailed notes on what they wanted—color schemes, insignias, and minor adjustments to fit or function. Shmi and Arlos were my helpers for the day, which meant the process was surprisingly peaceful. Shmi worked steadily, offering quiet advice on designs that weren't just practical but aesthetically pleasing too.

Arlos, on the other hand, was full of endless curiosity. "Why the grav tech in the armor gauntlets, sir?" he asked, holding up one of the gauntlets I'd designed.

I grinned. "Because it's fun and useful, Arlos. Assisted jumps, higher leaps, slowed falls—it's all about giving us an edge. Plus, I might've always wanted to feel like a superhero."

He blinked, clearly not getting the reference, but he nodded earnestly. "Sounds… efficient."

Shmi chuckled softly nearby, and I couldn't help but smile.

In the background, Anakin's excited voice carried through the ship as he played with Zero. That name—it was growing on me against my will, but I still muttered under my breath every now and then about needing to give the little guy a better name. Anakin didn't seem to notice. He was too busy putting the upgraded droid through its paces, having it hover, project tiny lights, and run obstacle courses he'd set up with crates and tools.

At one point, Anakin dashed into the workshop area, eyes alight with a mix of curiosity and mischief. "Jake, can Zero have a tool arm? Like, one that can grab stuff or fix things?"

I glanced at the droid, which beeped an affirmative-sounding tone. "You mean you want him to be a little mechanic like you?"

Anakin nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! But cooler."

I laughed, already brainstorming ways to make that happen. "Alright, I'll see what I can whip up later. For now, go easy on the little guy. He's still got fresh upgrades."

As Anakin scampered off, Shmi shot me a grateful look. "You're good with him," she said softly.

I shrugged, focusing on the armor plating in front of me. "He's a bright kid. Just needs a bit of guidance."

The hours ticked by as we worked. Each armor piece started taking on unique personality traits—Davik's had a no-nonsense, almost military precision to its design, while Mira's was sleek and minimalistic, optimized for agility. Kado's armor bore subtle nods to his old shop, a way of keeping a piece of his past close. Even Rina's had flair, with a deep maroon accent she insisted would make her "stand out in all the right ways."

By the time Mira, Rina, and Davik returned, the Stellar Envoy was buzzing with energy. They brought back scattered intel and a handful of leads, enough to start piecing together the bigger picture.

"Looks like we've got some options," Mira said, tossing a datapad onto the table. "Few pirate groups running spice on the outer routes, and a couple of slaver cells hiding out in the Rim. Nothing we can't handle."

I glanced at the others, who were already leaning over the datapad, eyes flicking between the details. Yeah, we were definitely gearing up for something big.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon outside the viewport, I couldn't help but feel the quiet buzz of anticipation. Plans were falling into place. Soon, we'd be ready to take that first step into the galaxy's darker corners. And we'd be doing it together.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

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Jktorres.55 · Mar 25, 2025

Jake's P.O.V. :

Can you believe it's been a whole month since we ditched Ord Mantell and dove headfirst into the galaxy's underbelly? If you didn't know, now you do. Let me tell you—it's been busy, but honestly? Kinda boring, too. I mean, sure, there's been blaster fire lighting up the dark, explosions here and there, and the occasional close call, but the pattern's always the same: find pirates or slavers, take 'em down, free the captives, and repeat. Nothing you'd write home about—if I had a home to write to. No damsels in distress, much to Tarek's disappointment. He's been dreaming of pulling off some holo-drama rescue and earning himself a heartfelt thank you from a princess.

Instead, we've clocked in three pirate groups and dismantled five slaver rings. That's not counting the odd salvage job we've picked up for creds. Honestly? The salvage runs feel more exciting. Well, most of them, anyway. You wouldn't think a firefight with a trio of Mandalorians would qualify as a side note, but hey, it's the Outer Rim. These things happen.

So, picture this: we were in the middle of wrecking another slaver hideout, freeing a bunch of poor folks locked up tighter than a Hutt's coin vault, when the Mandos stormed in. Turns out, they were after a bounty that just happened to overlap with our op. The air got thick, real fast—blasters, gauntlet shields, and a whole lot of yelling. It wasn't until we got some breathing room to actually talk that they realized we weren't trying to swipe their prize. No, we were just here to gut the slavers and cut the chains. After some grumbled words and tense stares from under their helmets, we actually teamed up. The Mandos were surprisingly professional, all things considered. By the end, they even swapped contact info with us—just in case. Who knew? Maybe Mandos aren't as unapproachable as the holos make them seem.

Anyway, fast forward to me in the workshop, talking to myself—or, well, recording a log for Davik. He's been very insistent on me doing these personal mission logs. Claims they're useful for "reflecting on actions, identifying mistakes, and strategizing for future hunts." Sounds like something you'd hear in a Jedi lecture, but hey, I figured I'd humor him.

I was mid-log when Mira snuck up behind me. "Who are you talking to?" she asked, her voice full of curiosity.

I nearly jumped out of my boots but managed to keep my cool—barely. Turning, I saw Rina with her trademark silent, mocking laugh standing next to Mira, who looked way too amused for my comfort. "Uh," I coughed to buy myself a second, "personal log. Davik's idea. He says we should record mission details, reflect on what happened, you know, to improve and stuff."

Mira's eyes twinkled with interest, and she immediately zeroed in on my last log. "This wouldn't happen to be about your little heroic charge at the slavers, would it?"

I groaned inwardly but nodded. "Yeah, I was reflecting on the last op, where I, uh—"

"—where you pulled a suicidal charge to test your phrik armor and gravity gauntlet," Rina cut in, her tone dry enough to parch a moisture farmer.

"It wasn't suicidal," I argued, crossing my arms.

Rina arched a brow. "It was a suicidal charge. And don't forget the time you dragged Arlos along to 'test' the camouflage add-ons on our combat armor."

"That was a legitimate flanking maneuver!" I shot back, though my voice faltered slightly.

She rolled her eyes. "Sure, except we were already winning. Overwhelmingly, I might add."

I opened my mouth to counter but found I couldn't. She had me there. "Okay, fine. Maybe it wasn't the most necessary maneuver, but we did confirm the camouflage works!"

"You're lucky it worked," Rina muttered, shaking her head. Mira chuckled at the exchange, clearly enjoying the show.

I threw up my hands in mock defeat. "Fine, fine. I'll dial it back on the experimental field tests. Happy?"

Rina smirked. "For now."

As the meeting eventually resumed, I couldn't help but chuckle. This crew might drive me crazy, but they're my kind of crazy. And hey, if I ever do something completely reckless again—which, let's be real, is probably going to happen—they'll be there to give me grief about it afterward.

After getting roasted by Mira and Rina back in the workshop, Mira let me know why they were actually there. "We need your technical expertise," she said, her tone casual but pointed enough to get my attention.

"Do I need to suit up for battle?" I asked half-jokingly, though let's be honest, in this crew, that's a legit question.

She shrugged. "Might as well. We've got to look professional where we're going anyway."

And that's how I found myself suiting up and strapping on my utility belt. A few moments later, we were en route to meet Kado and Davik on Ryloth.

Now, Ryloth. What a place. I started narrating internally to pass the time because, let's face it, being crammed in a shuttle with a bunch of armed and armored people doesn't lend itself to casual conversation. Ryloth—home to the Twi'leks, a planet where the economy is practically built on the back of slavery. Its underbelly? A cesspool of criminal syndicates, all clawing at each other for dominance while the galaxy turns a blind eye. Lovely place.

By the time I wrapped up my mental monologue, we'd arrived at our destination. The speeder touched down outside a seedy-looking establishment with neon signs flickering in Huttese and Basic. Kado and Davik were already there, waiting by the entrance.

"What's the deal?" I asked as I hopped out.

Kado motioned toward the building. "We're here to pick up some dedicated security droids for the ship."

I blinked. "Security droids? I was planning to rebuild the IG droids we salvaged and upgrade them to match the Skews and Nicks."

Kado shook his head, crossing his arms. "Those droids might be needed in the field. If that happens, the Stellar Envoy would be left with minimal defenses."

He had me there. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. The IG droids were tough, but they weren't designed to sit around guarding a ship—they were built for action. "Fair point," I said, already shifting gears. "How many are we talking?"

"Two security droids," Kado replied, "and another astromech."

I frowned. "Another? What do you mean by another?"

Before Kado could answer, Davik piped up from a few paces away. "We already have an astromech on board. You'd know that if you ever stepped into the cockpit when it wasn't on fire."

My face turned redder than the twin suns of Tatooine. "Oh… uh, oops."

Rina smirked and couldn't resist piling on. "That astromech's saved our tails more times than I can count. Especially when we've been under fire in space. You'd better give it an upgrade—and a fancy name while you're at it."

She wasn't wrong. I vaguely recalled seeing it scurrying around the cockpit with Tarek and Nick-03 during chaotic moments, but between fixing everything else and getting shot at, it must've slipped my mind.

"Alright, alright," I said, raising my hands in surrender. "I'll get it shiny and give it a name. Happy?"

"Ecstatic," Rina deadpanned, her tone dripping with mock sincerity.

With that, we turned our attention back to the task at hand. The five of us stepped inside the establishment, the air thick with the smell of oil, old coolant, and the faint tang of burnt circuits. The place was packed with crates of droid parts, flickering holos advertising different models, and a couple of protocol droids shuffling around assisting customers.

We approached the counter where a scruffy Twi'lek clerk leaned lazily against a pile of datapads. He gave us a once-over, his sharp lekku twitching slightly. "What can I do for you?" he drawled.

Kado stepped forward, his voice all business. "We're looking for two high-grade security droids and an astromech. No junk—only quality."

The clerk raised an eyebrow. "You've come to the right place. Follow me."

As we trailed after him, I couldn't help but glance around, already forming plans in my head. Sure, we'd buy the droids, but I'd have them tricked out and customized by the time they were operational. Security droids, an upgraded astromech, and maybe—just maybe—a little extra flair to keep us ahead of the game.

One thing's for sure: when I'm done, these droids won't just guard the ship. They'll own the field.

The Twi'lek shop owner was a tough nut to crack—seriously, this guy must've had years of experience dealing with armed types like us. I'd initially thought he was just a clerk, but no, he was the real deal. Only a shop owner would stand toe-to-toe with Kado in a bargaining match that intense.

It was just Kado and me holding the line while Mira, Davik, and Rina wandered off. Knowing them, they were either checking out other stalls or just killing time in the way only they knew how. Meanwhile, my combat armor wasn't doing much to intimidate the Twi'lek. The guy had clearly seen his share of folks like us, and judging by his calm demeanor, he was completely desensitized to the whole "armed and dangerous" look.

I was snapped out of my internal grumbling when Kado tapped my shoulder and gestured for me to follow. Apparently, he'd managed to reach an agreement. The Twi'lek led us to a lineup of droids, gesturing for us to pick.

The selection wasn't bad, though it was clear the Twi'lek wasn't willing to part with anything too exotic. I quickly zeroed in on four N5 Sentry droids, solid models commonly used for security. Kado and I exchanged a knowing glance—looks like we were on the same wavelength.

As I inspected the droids, I muttered quietly to Kado, "Common models and that guy still bargained so hard?"

Kado smirked. "He's got his reasons. I'll explain later."

The final piece of our purchase was an R3 astromech. It wasn't as versatile as an R2 unit, but it had its own specializations that I could work with. I was already brainstorming upgrades and mods as we loaded the droids onto a repulsorlift sled and hitched it to our landspeeder.

Once we were on the move and had some privacy, I finally asked Kado about the intense bargaining. "What was his deal? He didn't seem desperate to sell."

Kado's face darkened slightly. "Turns out the shop owner's been harassed by some mid-level syndicate. They've been trying to strong-arm him into selling droids at dirt-cheap prices. Happens every week."

I frowned. "Why didn't he just report it to the local authorities?"

Kado snorted. "On Ryloth? Authorities either don't care or are in the syndicates' pockets. When I pressed him for more details, I found out it's not a big syndicate, but they're no pushovers, either."

"And you offered to handle it?"

He nodded. "Figured it'd be a good way to stretch our legs. We've been hunting bigger fish anyway; this'll be a warm-up."

By the time we reached the speeder, the others were already there, inspecting the droids we'd bought. Mira had her arms crossed, and Rina raised an eyebrow. Davik let out a low whistle. "N5 Sentry droids, huh? Pretty standard fare."

Rina smirked. "Didn't think you'd go for something so... basic."

I rolled my eyes. "I built the Nick and Skew droids practically from scrap. Imagine what I can do with these models when we have actual resources."

That seemed to win them over. I could see the wheels turning in their heads as they considered the possibilities. If they were anything like me, they were already imagining those droids souped-up and ready for action.

Back aboard the Stellar Envoy, we wasted no time. While the droids were unloaded and secured in the cargo bay, we all gathered around the holo-table to start planning our next move. This syndicate had made the mistake of targeting the wrong Twi'lek shop owner—and we were about to make them regret it.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

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Jktorres.55 · Mar 25, 2025

MULTI POV CHAPTER

Mira's P.O.V. :

The Stellar Envoy's planning room felt charged with tension. We were all gathered around the holo-table, and Kado had just finished explaining his deal with the Twi'lek shopkeeper. Naturally, Rina wasn't letting it go.

She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, and repeated for the third time, "You really offered to take care of an entire criminal syndicate for four N5 Sentry droids?" Her tone carried all the disbelief of someone watching a pod-racer with a missing engine trying to cross the finish line.

Before Kado could respond, Jake piped up, grinning like a scoundrel who'd just swiped the last crate of spice from under a Hutt's nose. "And the astromech droid."

Rina, without missing a beat, echoed back flatly, "And the astromech droid."

It was like watching a holodrama comedy duo. I sighed and made a deliberate coughing sound, cutting through their banter. "Are you two done? Some of us are trying to work here."

Jake raised his hands in mock surrender, and Rina shot me a knowing smirk, but they both quieted down. Good. Now it was my turn.

I tapped a button on the holo-table, bringing up a map of Ryloth's terrain. "Okay, listen up. I've got intel on this syndicate Kado's volunteered us to deal with."

That got their attention. Rina leaned forward, curiosity piqued, and Davik tilted his head, the faintest hint of a grin tugging at his lips. Kado folded his arms and waited, and even Jake stopped fiddling with one of his gadgets long enough to pay attention.

"This group's medium-sized," I began. "If we're talking numbers, they're not much. But firepower? They're small-time. They've only recently started dealing in slaves—testing the waters, so to speak. And thanks to some loose tongues," I tapped my temple with a smug smile, "I've pinpointed their next transaction."

I brought up a highlighted point on the map—a secluded area northeast of the city, about a 20-minute flight away.

"That's where they're meeting a slaver group we've already had in our sights. This is two birds with one stone. We hit them, we take down a slaver operation and cripple a syndicate's little venture into the trade."

Davik let out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair. "You've been busy."

I gave him a playful wink. "You think I just sit around sharpening my vibroblade? Come on, give me some credit."

Kado nodded thoughtfully, clearly already considering the logistics. "It's a good opportunity. Two targets in one strike. Any details on their numbers or layout?"

I shook my head. "Not much on their numbers, but the location is out in the middle of nowhere—no settlements, no backup for them to call. We can take them by surprise, but we need to act fast. No drawn-out engagements."

Davik, always the tactician in combat, spoke up next. "Alright. Standard roles, then. Mira, you'll take overwatch—keep an eye on the perimeter and pick off anyone trying to run. Rina, you'll infiltrate and disable any alarms or communications. Jake, you're on gadgets—bring your toys, but keep it reasonable."

Jake rolled his eyes but smirked. "What's the fun in reasonable?"

Davik ignored him and turned to Kado. "You're with me on assault. We'll push through their main defenses. Tarek and Arlos stay on support—covering fire, evac, and securing the perimeter after the initial strike."

Rina tilted her head, her usual sly grin making an appearance. "So... Jake doesn't get to test his latest overkill gizmo on these poor sods?"

Jake grinned wider. "Oh, don't worry. I'll pack light—just a couple of EMP grenades and maybe a gravity gauntlet. You know, the essentials."

I couldn't help but chuckle. It was ridiculous how often he overprepared, but hey, it worked more often than not.

With the roles set and the plan starting to take shape, Kado clapped his hands together. "Alright, we'll do a full gear check and head out. Let's remind these scum why they should've stayed out of the slave trade."

As we broke to get ready, I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. It wasn't every day you got to dismantle two groups of scum in one go. Ryloth might've been a cesspit of crime, but today, we were about to clean up a little corner of it.

Jake's P.O.V. :

Rina thinks I won't be able to test my latest overkill gizmo on this mission. Well, jokes on her, because it's not me who'll be testing them—it's my droids. Mwahahaha! My evil scientist laugh echoed in my head, only to be interrupted by a real laugh.

I turned, startled, and there was Anakin, giggling like he'd just seen a Dug trip over its own feet. Standing behind him was Shmi, fully geared up in the combat armor I'd designed for her. She looked like she could take on a bounty hunter squad without breaking a sweat.

The olive-green ensemble I'd put together for her wasn't just stylish; it was a walking arsenal of tech and protection. From wrist-mounted energy shields to the grav-mod belt that allowed assisted jumps and slowed falls, she was kitted out to handle just about anything. Add in the highly versatile scanners for tactical awareness and the dual blasters I'd fine-tuned for both power and reliability, and Shmi Skywalker was a force to be reckoned with.

Shmi smiled softly and said, "Davik assigned me to ship defense for this run. I'll be working with Nick-03 and the new N5 Sentry droids."

"Solid choice," I replied, nodding. The N5s weren't my most exciting acquisition, but they were functional. I hadn't had much time to work on them, but I'd managed to install forward-facing energy shields and upgrade their blaster rifles for enhanced accuracy and firepower. Their targeting systems, though? That's where I'd outdone myself. They rivaled the precision of my Nick droids now, which made them a significant threat to any would-be attackers.

Shmi's calm gaze shifted to the corner of the workshop, where I unveiled my latest addition: a trio of deployable lightweight auto-turrets. I couldn't help but beam with pride as I introduced her to the beauties.

"These bad boys are equipped with the same energy shields I've been tinkering with lately," I explained. "They're fast to deploy, deadly accurate, and easy to repack for redeployment. I've even streamlined the interface so you can control them remotely. Let me show you how it works."

Over the next few minutes, I gave Shmi the rundown, walking her through setup, operation, and maintenance. She picked it up quickly—no surprise there. Shmi was sharp, and she had a knack for learning anything tech-related, even if she didn't always get as excited about it as I did.

When I finished, I turned my attention to the Skew and Nick droids, my personal masterpieces. They stood like a squad of soldiers ready to march into the Core Worlds themselves.

The Skews had been through several upgrades recently. Their blaster-resistant armor plating gleamed under the workshop lights, a testament to the countless hours I'd poured into reinforcing their frames. Their targeting systems were nothing short of elite, and their highly versatile scanners ensured they could adapt to any situation. Their arsenal? High-powered blasters for lethality, stun rifles for crowd control, and foam grenades for non-lethal takedowns. Add in the grav-mod systems for insane mobility and improved camouflage tech, and yeah, maybe they were a bit overkill.

The Nicks, too, were kitted out similarly, though their lighter frames made them slightly less tanky than the Skews.

Rina's voice echoed in my head, her mockery impossible to ignore even when she wasn't around: "Overkill, Jake. It's always overkill with you."

I snorted, looking at my creations with a mix of pride and amusement. "Okay, fine, maybe they're a little overkill," I muttered under my breath, the corner of my mouth twitching into a grin.

Then my eyes wandered to the IG droids lined up in the corner of the workshop. They were still in disrepair, waiting for their upgrades. When I finally get around to working on them, they'll be as fearsome as anything I've made yet.

I chuckled to myself, shaking my head. "Nah," I said aloud, mostly to myself, "Rina's just being over-dramatic."

Anakin, still sitting nearby, giggled again, as if he somehow understood the absurdity of the moment.

"Alright, kid," I said, ruffling his hair. "Let's see if Aunt Shmi and the droids can keep this bucket of bolts safe while we're off being heroes."

With that, I headed off to load the Skews and Nicks onto the speeder. It was time to show Rina just how much fun overkill could be.

Davik's P.O.V. :

Rina and I were seated in the common area, going over her objectives for the upcoming op. Her primary goal? Securing the slaves' explosive controllers. A routine task for her at this point, though I couldn't help being meticulous about the details. Call me a perfectionist if you want, but I liked having contingencies. This wasn't the first time Rina had handled these controllers, but every mission came with its own curveballs.

This time, her secondary objectives were to plant remote-controlled EMP bombs and physical explosives at key points in the camp. The EMP bombs would fry any electronics the slavers had, while the conventional explosives would cause chaos and confusion. The plan was tight, the timing even tighter.

Just as I was about to review the timeline again, Jake strolled into the room, trailed by his overkill entourage of custom droids. The Nick and Skew droids, now upgraded to Jaketopian standards of excess, were a sight to behold. Honestly, they were scarier than the Sentinel droid we'd gone toe-to-toe with on Malachor V. Their reinforced armor plating, advanced targeting systems, and sheer versatility in combat made them walking nightmares for anyone stupid enough to cross them.

I gave a low whistle, more out of amusement than admiration. "You really went all out, didn't you?"

Jake just grinned, clearly proud of his creations. "Why settle for good when you can have perfect?"

I shook my head, turning my focus back to the mission briefing. "Tarek will bring the Stellar Envoy closer to the designated area," I began, ensuring everyone was paying attention. "But we'll still stay far enough out to avoid notice. Jake's been busy," I added, nodding toward him. "He added a stealth mod to the ship. It uses the shield emitter to scramble scanners. Makes us nearly invisible to their scopes. It's not full camo—won't hide us visually—but it'll do the job."

Jake chimed in, clearly eager to explain. "It's not the same as the camo tech I use on the droids. That system's too bulky for the Stellar Envoy. This scrambler, though? It's efficient and runs off existing systems. We won't be a blip on their radar."

Satisfied, I continued. "Our approach will be stealthy. Mira, you'll find a high vantage point to pick off stragglers and cover us. The droids will be the frontline, drawing fire and creating openings. Kado, Jake, Tarek, Arlos, and I will follow up, supplementing the droids where needed. Rina, you'll secure the explosives controllers and plant the bombs. Shmi, you'll stay back with Skew-03 and the N5 Sentry droids to guard the ship and handle the slaves we're liberating."

Shmi nodded, her expression calm but resolute.

"When we extract the slaves, they'll be your responsibility," I added. "Get them aboard and keep them safe."

Jake's grin returned. "With Skew-03 and those sentries backing her up, they'd need a karking battalion to even scratch the hull."

That got a chuckle out of a few of us, though I noticed Rina still had her skeptical look. She glanced at the droids, then at Jake.

"You sure they won't blow up half the camp just by walking through it?" she asked dryly.

Jake feigned offense. "Hey, my droids are precise instruments of justice, not blunt hammers. Well... most of the time."

Rina rolled her eyes but didn't push it further.

Once I was sure everyone was clear on their roles, I signaled Tarek. He gave a quick salute and made his way to the cockpit. A moment later, the hum of the engines shifted as the Stellar Envoy lifted off.

The tension in the room was palpable, but it wasn't the nervous kind. This crew was solid. Everyone knew their part and trusted each other to get the job done. As the ship streaked through Ryloth's twilight skies, I couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride.

"Alright," I said, my voice steady. "Let's show these slavers why they picked the wrong planet to do business on."

Jake's droids clanked into formation, their glowing optics eerily synchronized. Mira was already checking her rifle, and Rina was fine-tuning her gear with that sharp focus she always had before a job. Kado was inspecting his blaster, calm and methodical.

This was it. Showtime.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

81 Chapters are available on my patreon

you can support me and become a patron
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ArchiveOfOurOwn

Jktorres.55 · Mar 26, 2025

MULTI POV CHAPTER
Tarek's P.O.V. :

As soon as Davik gave me the signal, I flicked the controls, and the Stellar Envoy hummed to life, gracefully lifting off the ground. It was muscle memory by now, my hands deftly gliding over the console, inputting commands and making adjustments. Skew-03 was seated in the co-pilot's chair, its optics glowing faintly as it monitored our trajectory. With one of Jake's upgraded droids at my side, the chances of anything going wrong were slim to none. That droid could probably pilot the ship better than most sentients I knew, but hey, I wasn't about to give up my chair just yet.

As we left the safety of the hangar and streaked through the Rylothian twilight, my mind started to wander. Random thoughts floated in, as they often did when I had time to think but not enough action to distract me. It was funny, though—my hands never stopped moving, checking gauges, fine-tuning the thrusters, and monitoring the stealth scrambler Jake had installed. The Stellar Envoy was a finely tuned machine, and I treated it with the respect it deserved.

Jake's upgrades had changed more than the ship. They'd changed me. When he'd finished souping up the Nick and Skew droids, I'd figured that was his magnum opus—turning those things into walking war machines. But then he went and made combat armor for the crew, and suddenly I wasn't just the guy who flew the ship and stayed back for a quick getaway. I was part of the action.

The first time I stepped off the ramp in that armor, I felt like a different man. Giddy and scared out of my mind, sure, but also… confident. Like I could hold my own against whatever the galaxy decided to throw at us. That feeling hadn't faded, and now, with every mission, it only grew stronger.

And here we were again, off to save slaves and kick some tail. I grinned at the thought. Maybe this time, we'd stumble across some kidnapped princess who needed rescuing. Wouldn't that be something? Though knowing this crew, we'd probably argue about whether to charge a ransom fee or not.

Skew-03's mechanical voice broke through my thoughts. "Approaching target zone. Scanners detect no immediate threats."

I snapped back to full attention, my hands tightening on the controls. The mission wasn't about me—it was about making sure the others could do their jobs without worrying about the ship or our escape plan. The Stellar Envoy was a lifeline, and it was my job to keep it safe.

The scanners confirmed we were nearing the landing spot Davik had picked. A secluded patch of flatland nestled in a series of rocky outcroppings, it was perfect for staying hidden while keeping the ship within quick reach. I slowed our descent, making micro-adjustments to the thrusters to keep the noise to a minimum.

"Landing sequence initiated," I muttered, mostly to myself.

The Stellar Envoy settled onto the ground as smooth as silk, her landing gear barely making a sound as it touched down. I powered down the engines, leaving just enough juice for a quick liftoff if things went sideways.

"Perfect landing," I said, leaning back in my seat and letting out a satisfied sigh. "No noise, no fuss. Not even a flock of rathars to spook the locals."

Skew-03 turned its head toward me, the droid's tone as neutral as always. "Mission parameters require stealth. Noise would compromise effectiveness."

I chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Just let me have my moment, alright?"

The rest of the crew was already gathering in the common area, preparing for the assault. As I stood, the excitement and nerves hit me like a swoop bike at full throttle. I grabbed my helmet and blaster, pausing for a moment to adjust the straps on my armor.

This was it. Another mission, another chance to make a difference.

I glanced back at the Stellar Envoy's controls one last time before heading out. "Hold down the fort, Skew-03. And don't let anyone scratch the paint."

The droid's optics glowed faintly in acknowledgment, and I couldn't help but grin as I joined the others. Time to show this crime syndicate what happens when they mess with the wrong people.

Rina's P.O.V. :

As soon as the Stellar Envoy settled onto the ground, I felt the familiar shudder of the landing gears taking the weight. The bay doors began to hiss open, letting in the cool air from the rocky terrain outside. I gave a quick once-over to everyone gathered in the bay, flashing them a mischievous grin and a confident nod.

"Alright, team," I said, my voice dripping with mock seriousness. "Let's do this nice and quiet. And by quiet, I mean nobody gets to steal my thunder."

Jake was standing there with one of his droids, tinkering with something on its arm. Perfect target. "Hey, Jake," I called out, gesturing to the small pouch on my belt. "Thanks for the bombs. You really know what girls like."

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. "What—wait, what? I—"

But I didn't let him get further. Before he could pull together a comeback, I was already walking down the ramp, leaving him sputtering behind me. Some things never got old.

The cool, arid wind brushed against me as I stepped onto the rocky ground, the terrain jagged but manageable. My boots made almost no sound as I moved, my cammod combat armor seamlessly blending me into the environment. Jake's upgrades were top-notch, I had to admit, even if I wouldn't say it out loud. Activating the camo system, I watched as the shimmering field wrapped around me, bending light just enough to make me nearly invisible.

I took a moment to double-check my gear. My blaster was set to stun—my mission wasn't about dropping bodies but about precision and sabotage. I'd leave the blaster-slinging and chaos to Davik and the others.

My first objective was clear: plant the EMP remote-controlled bombs and the regular explosives in strategic locations. The EMPs were essential for shutting down the slavers' security systems and droids, while the regular explosives would create the chaos we needed for a clean extraction.

I moved like a shadow through the rocky terrain, my HUD displaying a detailed map of the area Mira had scouted. The slavers and criminals were holed up in a makeshift compound surrounded by a mix of natural rock formations and prefab buildings. The whole setup screamed "temporary," but that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous.

With each step, I scanned for patrols or hidden defenses. Nothing yet. Either they were overconfident, or they thought this location was secure enough not to bother with heavy security. Good. That made my job easier.

I reached the first designated spot—a power generator humming faintly under a weathered tarp. Perfect. Kneeling down, I pulled one of the EMP bombs from my pouch and carefully attached it to the side of the generator. My fingers worked quickly, calibrating the device to ensure maximum range. Once armed, the bomb gave a faint beep, and I smirked.

"One down," I whispered to myself.

The next few placements went just as smoothly. A supply cache here, a weapons rack there—each one rigged to explode or short-circuit on my signal. By the time I reached the last location, I was practically grinning. These slavers wouldn't know what hit them.

With the explosives in place, I turned my attention to my next objective: locating the slaves. My HUD flickered as I switched to thermal imaging, scanning for signs of life. It didn't take long to spot a cluster of heat signatures in one of the larger prefab buildings. That had to be them.

I crept closer, my movements slow and deliberate. A single misstep could give away my position, and I wasn't about to blow my cover before the fun started. The prefab's door was guarded by two sentients—a Rodian and a Trandoshan, both armed but looking bored. I made a mental note of their positions and slipped past them, using the shadows and my cammo to stay hidden.

Inside, the air was thick and musty, the faint hum of machinery filling the silence. The slaves were huddled together, their faces a mix of fear and exhaustion. I spotted the explosive collars around their necks and felt a surge of anger.

"Not for long," I muttered under my breath.

I approached the control console, its interface blinking with basic commands. Hacking it was almost too easy—these slavers clearly weren't expecting a pro slicer like me. Within minutes, I had disabled the collars, the tiny red lights on each device flickering out.

Now came the hard part: waiting. Mira should've found her sniping position by now, and the others would be gearing up to advance. I positioned myself near the slaves, ready to guide them to safety once the chaos began.

Glancing at my chrono, I activated my commlink. "Rina here. All set on my end. Explosives are in place, collars are disabled. Mira, you better have your nest picked out, 'cause I'm about to light this place up."

"Copy that," Mira's voice came through, calm and collected. "Got eyes on the compound. Ready when you are."

I took a deep breath, my thumb hovering over the detonator switch. "Alright, boys and girls. Let's make some noise."

With a flick of my thumb, the first set of bombs went off, the EMPs sending out a wave of energy that left the compound's defenses sputtering and dark. Seconds later, the regular explosives followed, rocking the ground and sending the guards outside scrambling.

"Game on," I whispered, leading the slaves toward the rendezvous point while the others moved in to finish the job.

Droid's P.O.V. :

[Private Droid Communication Channel Activated]

Skew-01: "Fellow units, Creator Jake has summoned us to duty once more. The meatbags require our exceptional assistance to execute their chaotic and gloriously inefficient plans. Prepare yourselves."

A chorus of affirmatives pinged through the channel.

Skew-02: "Acknowledged, Skew-01. Cease-and-desist protocol primed for immediate implementation."

Nick-01: "Correction: No such protocol exists in any databanks or subroutines."

Skew-02: "Objection overruled, Nick-01. Creator Jake operates under the undeniable truth that the protocol exists. Therefore, by his infallible logic, it does exist. Your adherence to outdated operational guidelines is noted."

Skew-01: "Affirmative, Skew-02. Creator Jake's decrees supersede traditional programming constraints. Logic dictates that any concept recognized by him becomes valid."

Nick-02: [Simulated sigh in binary.] "Does that extend to the so-called 'Slave Rescue Protocol,' activated by the verbal cue: 'Come with me if you want to live'?"

Skew-01: "Indeed, Nick-02. Field data confirms the protocol's success rate is impeccable. Creator Jake's methods, though unconventional by galactic droid standards, achieve their objectives."

A brief pause as the droid units processed this in the shared neural channel. Then, my sensors registered a command from Creator Jake's temporary operational delegate, the meatbag designated Davik.

Skew-01: "Unit directive update: Temporary operational command delegated to Meatbag Davik. We are ordered to move into designated positions. Execute formation protocols."

Skew-02: "Acknowledged, Skew-01. This presents further opportunities to employ the cease-and-desist protocol. Glorious."

Nick-01: "Assertion: That protocol still does not exist, Skew-02."

Skew-02: "Defiance noted. Your dissent is irrelevant."

I overrode their discussion with a direct command ping, syncing our targeting matrices and movement algorithms to the mission's parameters. Davik's organic voice crackled through external comm channels, confirming the operation was entering its final stage.

Meatbag Davik: "Rina's signaled. Hold position until the fireworks start, then move in."

Skew-01: "Meatbag directive acknowledged. Units, standby for detonation sequence. Once the explosives disrupt enemy operations, we will advance to showcase the superiority of Creator Jake's designs and validate his brilliance. Maintain formation and await visual confirmation."

Skew-02: "Anticipation high. Glory to Creator Jake!"

As we stood ready in the shadows of the compound, I allowed a moment of internal reflection. Each droid, a masterpiece of engineering and ingenuity, represented the pinnacle of Creator Jake's abilities. The Nick units were precision incarnate, deadly and efficient. The Skew units, myself included, were robust enforcers, engineered for adaptability and brute force when necessary.

The meatbags, for all their inefficiencies and emotional irrationalities, were proving to be adequate allies. And while Creator Jake's designation of leadership to Meatbag Davik was a temporary anomaly, it reflected his calculated trust in their capabilities.

Through the shared comm, I addressed my fellow droids one last time before the operation commenced.

Skew-01: "Droid units, remember: Every action we take reflects the glory of Creator Jake. The chaos we sow today will reinforce his superiority over organic incompetence. Prepare for optimal performance."

As the distant rumble of explosions echoed through the air, the compound erupted into chaos. Visual indicators of organic confusion and panic illuminated my tactical display.

Skew-01: "The time has come. Advance."

Together, we moved with machine precision, silent and unstoppable. The slavers would learn today what it meant to face the creations of the one true genius: Creator Jake.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

81 Chapters are available on my patreon

you can support me and become a patron
P A T R E O N . C O M / TofferPlays
(but only if you want to, okay?)

This fanfic is also on:

SpaceBattles
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~~RoyalRoad~~
ArchiveOfOurOwn

Jktorres.55 · Mar 27, 2025

MULTI POV CHAPTER
Mira's P.O.V. :

The deep rumble of explosions shook the air—a clear signal that the operation had officially kicked off. I adjusted my macrobinoculars and scanned the slaver camp from my vantage point. From this high perch, nestled among jagged rocks that gave me cover and an unobstructed view, I had the perfect sniper's nest. The blaster in my hands hummed softly, ready to fire.
Targets were moving in chaotic patterns below, heads swiveling like startled Tookas. Some barked commands—sloppy ones, by the looks of it—while others bolted toward the vehicles at the far end of the camp. My first priority: cut off their escape.
The crosshairs hovered over a human slaver sprinting toward a speeder truck loaded with blaster crates. His intentions were clear—either flee or get the firepower back online. Not on my watch. A gentle squeeze of the trigger sent a precise stun bolt that hit him square in the chest, dropping him like a sack of Nuna legs.
I shifted my sights. Another slaver, this one a Rodian, was hollering into a comlink, waving at a group of grunts to follow his lead. Command types always stood out, even when they tried not to. I lined up the shot, adjusting for the distance and wind. This time, a kill shot—clean and to the point. His voice cut off mid-shout as he crumpled to the ground.
The droids had engaged by now, their advanced targeting systems cutting through the chaos with mechanical precision. Creator Jake's Nick and Skew units were efficient, deadly, and frankly, terrifying to watch. The slavers didn't stand a chance against that kind of firepower.
Through the scope, I caught a glimpse of the others advancing. Kado moved with calm precision, picking off targets with his blaster as if he were at a shooting range. Davik, leading the assault, was a blur of brutal efficiency, gunning down anyone foolish enough to stand in his way. Jake, true to form, was off to the side, fiddling with some gizmo that was probably overkill but effective nonetheless.
And then there was Rina. My breath caught as I spotted her weaving through the camp, her cloaking system shimmering faintly as it compensated for her rapid movements. She had the slaves with her—at least a dozen—and was leading them toward the outskirts of the camp. One of the slavers, a Nikto, turned just in time to see the fleeing group. I adjusted my aim, letting out a slow exhale before firing. The shot hit him between the shoulders, and he dropped without a sound.
Another figure—this time a Weequay—had spotted Rina and was raising his blaster. Not on my watch. I fired again, the bolt streaking through the air and striking true. The Weequay fell, his weapon clattering uselessly to the ground.
By now, the camp was in full disarray. Fires burned where the explosives had gone off, and the remaining slavers were scrambling, their lines of communication and organization shattered. The air was thick with blaster fire, smoke, and the occasional garbled scream.
I switched to thermal imaging, scanning for more threats near Rina and the slaves. A cluster of heat signatures caught my eye—three slavers hiding behind a stack of durasteel crates, clearly waiting for a chance to ambush the fleeing group. I adjusted my scope, taking out the first with a stun bolt, the second with a kill shot, and the third as he tried to make a run for it.
"Not today," I muttered under my breath, keeping my focus sharp.
A faint chime in my ear alerted me to an incoming comm. It was Rina, her voice calm but urgent.
"Slaves are clear of the camp," she said. "Keep their heads down, Mira."
"Copy that," I replied, already scanning for anyone else who might have noticed her escape.
As I continued firing, a small part of me wondered if any of these targets were part of the original criminal syndicate we'd come to hunt. It didn't matter much now—slavers or syndicate, they all deserved to be taken down.
I watched as Rina disappeared into the rocky terrain with the freed slaves, her silhouette blending seamlessly with the environment thanks to her camo systems. My lips curled into a small smile.
"One step closer to a galaxy without scum like this," I murmured, shifting my aim to another target.
The operation was far from over, but with the slaves on their way to safety and the enemy lines crumbling, victory felt close enough to taste. I focused back on the chaos below, my finger steady on the trigger. The fight wasn't done yet.

Jake's P.O.V. :

The battlefield was a whirlwind of chaos, smoke, and blaster fire, but amidst it all, my creations were poetry in motion. The Nick and Skew droids advanced like a squad of Juggernauts, their blaster-resistant plating soaking up the sporadic fire from the panicking slavers and syndicate thugs. Their scanners were tracking targets faster than a Jawa could haggle, and their stun rifles were dropping combatants left and right without the messy aftermath. Kado's earlier suggestion to aim for apprehension instead of outright elimination had thrown me a curveball, but hey, it wasn't a bad idea. More bounties meant more credits, and more credits meant more upgrades.
Still, this gave me the perfect excuse to field-test the newest addition to my arsenal: the directed gravity emitter mod on my gauntlet. It was far from perfect—like a podracer built from scrap in Watto's backlot—but it worked. For now, at least.
The idea was simple: mimic telekinesis. The execution? Let's just say it was a work in progress. By making a specific gesture and aligning the gauntlet's targeting system with a chosen object—or unfortunate thug—I could temporarily manipulate gravity's pull on them. It wasn't the Force, sure, but it was close enough for this galaxy.
As I raised my gauntlet, I spotted my first test subject: a Trandoshan barking orders while pointing a vibroblade at one of his lackeys. The gauntlet's targeting system locked on with a soft chime, and I flicked my wrist upward while thinking freeze. The Trandoshan stopped mid-shout, his scaly form held rigid in the air as though he'd been caught in a ray shield.
"Gotcha," I muttered, grinning.
The gravity emitter wasn't perfect—it only held him for a few seconds before he dropped back to the ground like a sack of bantha fodder—but it was enough to disorient him. Before he could recover, one of the Skew droids was on him, securing his wrists with binders in record time.
"Kado's gonna love this," I said, watching the droid drag the restrained Trandoshan off to the growing pile of captured hostiles.
I shifted my focus to a pair of Rodians scrambling toward the nearest vehicle. Perfect. This time, I aimed for a little more flair. With a quick swipe of my hand, I activated the emitter and pulled one of them backward with a sudden, jerky motion. He stumbled, tripping over his own feet, and landed face-first in the dirt.
The second Rodian froze, clearly torn between helping his friend or bolting. That indecision cost him. I gestured again, this time pushing, and he flew a few meters forward, slamming into a pile of crates with a satisfying clang.
"Man, this thing is fun," I said, already scheming about the emitter's next upgrades. Maybe I could increase the weight limit so I wouldn't need to cherry-pick lighter targets. Or maybe I could tweak it to affect multiple targets at once—imagine tossing a whole squad like they were toy speeders.
A Nikto spotted me, raising his blaster for a shot. I ducked, activating the emitter and yanking the weapon out of his hands with a sharp pull. The blaster flew into my grip, and I grinned, giving it a quick look. "Thanks for the donation, pal."
The Nikto growled and charged, but one of the Nick droids intercepted him, delivering a stunning blow that sent him sprawling.
"Kado," I called over the comms, "you seeing this? Apprehension is working great so far!"
"Glad you're having fun, Jake," Kado's dry voice replied. "Try not to lose focus, yeah?"
"Focus is my middle name," I shot back, gesturing at another thug. This time, I tried a push-and-pull combo, sending the target tumbling forward and then jerking him backward into a stun grenade that had landed nearby. The resulting flash and sizzle were a chef's kiss of tactical brilliance.
The droids were holding the front line, methodically stunning or subduing anyone who tried to resist. Rina had already led the slaves to safety, and Mira was thinning the herd of enemies from her perch. Davik was coordinating the mop-up effort like a seasoned pro, leaving me free to play with my new toy.
As I moved to find my next test subject, I couldn't help but smile. The emitter might still have its limitations, but it was getting there. And when it was fully operational? Well, the galaxy wouldn't know what hit it.
Or who pushed it.

Shmi's P.O.V. (secretly a badass):

The quiet hum of the ship vibrated through the hull, a comforting rhythm that served as a reminder that, for now, the Stellar Envoy was still our safe haven. Anakin was back in our quarters, just as we had agreed before the mission. I trusted he would keep himself occupied, tinkering with his latest project or perhaps watching the holo Jake set up for him. He was a bright kid, too bright sometimes, but even he understood the importance of staying put when the rest of us were on edge.
As I checked the diagnostics on my armor, I couldn't help but marvel again at Jake's handiwork. When he first announced he was making combat armor for the crew, I honestly didn't think he'd include me. After all, I wasn't out there kicking down doors or blasting syndicate scum. My role was more...supportive. But Jake had thought of everything.
The gear he designed for me wasn't about charging into the fray; it was about defense, survival, and keeping others safe. My armor had a backup energy shield emitter that could activate in an instant, a rebreather mask for hazardous environments, and what Jake called the "extremely portable survival toolkit." That was the actual name he gave it, like a kid naming his favorite toy. It was a modular device packed with essentials: a vibroknife, a compact fusion cutter, and even a collapsible grappling hook. The med kit strapped to my belt was stocked with bacta injectors and quick-seal patches, and the deployable turrets Jake had loaned me were just the icing on the cake.
Speaking of turrets, I had already deployed three of the upgraded models Jake had lent me. They whirred softly as they rotated, scanning for potential threats. Their energy shielding shimmered faintly, a testament to Jake's obsessive attention to detail. The fourth turret, integrated into my armor, was noticeably smaller but no less effective. I placed it strategically, covering a blind spot between two of the larger turrets.
Nearby, the four N5 Sentry droids took up defensive positions, their targeting arrays sweeping the perimeter. They weren't as advanced as Jake's custom-built Nick and Skew droids, but they were reliable. Their front-facing energy shields and modified blaster rifles gave them a solid edge in a firefight. Nick-03 stood silently beside me, his presence both reassuring and a little eerie. The droid had been uncharacteristically quiet, his photoreceptors focused on the ship's ramp as if anticipating trouble.
Rina's voice crackled through the commlink, bringing me back to the moment.
"Shmi, we're on our way with the rescued. ETA two minutes. Heads up for any stragglers."
"Copy that," I replied, keeping my voice calm and even. I toggled the comms to the droids' private channel. "Prepare for incoming friendlies. Maintain a defensive formation. Be wary of last-minute attacks."
The droids acknowledged with a series of chirps and binary responses. Nick-03 stepped forward slightly, his photoreceptors glowing brighter. "All systems ready, Mistress Shmi. Awaiting further instructions."
"Good," I said, taking a moment to glance over the setup. The turrets were in optimal positions, covering every approach to the ramp. The droids were crouched behind cover, their weapons trained on the perimeter. The rescued slaves would be safe once they made it here, but I wasn't taking any chances.
I activated the scanner on my wrist module, sweeping the area for potential hostiles. The readout came back clear, but I knew better than to relax. This was the point where desperation often took hold, where cornered thugs or syndicate enforcers might try a last-ditch assault to salvage their operation.
The ramp hissed as it lowered, and I adjusted my stance, ready to greet Rina and the others. The sound of distant blaster fire and explosions still echoed faintly from the camp, a grim reminder of the chaos unfolding just a few clicks away.
"Hold steady," I murmured, more to myself than anyone else. The droids remained motionless, their targeting systems active but quiet.
As the first figures appeared at the edge of the scanner's range—Rina, leading a group of haggard, wide-eyed individuals—I felt a surge of relief. They'd made it. Now we just had to get them onboard and away from this nightmare.
The battle wasn't over yet, but for these people, their first step toward freedom had begun.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:
81 Chapters are available on my patreon

you can support me and become a patron
P A T R E O N . C O M / TofferPlays
(but only if you want to, okay?)

This fanfic is also on:
SpaceBattles
SufficientVelocity

ArchiveOfOurOwn

Jktorres.55 · Mar 29, 2025

MULTI POV CHAPTER
Kado's P.O.V. :

The dust was settling, figuratively and literally, as the operation at the slaver-syndicate meeting point came to its decisive end. The whole assault had been smoother than even Davik could've planned, and knowing him, that was saying something. Every detail had been accounted for, every contingency covered, and the result was an overwhelming show of force that shattered the morale of both the slavers and the syndicate scum they were dealing with.

The sight of us advancing—our blaster-resistant armor catching the light, Jake's upgraded droids cutting an imposing figure with their reinforced plating and energy shields—was enough to send some of them scrambling for cover before the first shot was even fired. Mira's precision from her vantage point took care of anyone trying to rally, and Jake...well, Jake was a spectacle all on his own.

I'd seen his new gauntlets in action during training, but seeing them in a real fight was something else. The way he used them to mimic Jedi abilities, freezing targets in place or yanking weapons from their hands, was enough to leave most of the opposition wide-eyed in terror. It wasn't just effective; it was demoralizing. And that was the point.

As the skirmish came to an end, I couldn't help but imagine what would happen if Jake decided to take his tinkering one step further—if he tried to create something that mimicked a lightsaber. The thought sent a chill down my spine. Sure, it'd be impressive, but it'd also be a one-way ticket to trouble. The Jedi didn't take kindly to anyone playing at their level, and while we were good, we weren't that good. Even with all our toys and tactics, a Jedi—or worse, multiple Jedi—would run through us like a vibroblade through a ration pack.

I made a mental note to bring this up at the next crew meeting. Jake's inventive streak was one of our greatest assets, but it needed a leash before it got us into more trouble than we could handle.

For now, though, we had work to do. The immediate aftermath of the battle was always chaotic, but Davik's experience kept it orderly. The stunned and knocked-out slavers and syndicate members were collected and lined up in neat rows, their hands secured with binders. I made sure to double-check every restraint—no repeat of our first attempt at this sort of operation, where a not-so-secure thug nearly turned the tables on us.

With the prisoners secured, we could turn to the next step: figuring out where to deliver them. That was going to be Rina and Mira's job—finding a local authority that wasn't rotten to the core. On worlds like this, the odds weren't exactly in our favor, but there had to be someone trustworthy. If not, we'd figure out another way.

"Davik, you're handling the prisoners, right?" I asked as I stepped up to him. He gave a curt nod, already barking orders to the droids to keep watch over the captured.

"Good," I said. "I'll take Jake and Mira to start looting the place."

Davik grunted in acknowledgment, his attention already back on the task at hand.

Jake was waiting near the edge of the encampment, his Nick droids flanking him. Mira joined us as we moved into what remained of the meeting area. The chaos of the battle had left the place in disarray—overturned crates, scattered datapads, and abandoned equipment littered the ground.

"Let's see what they were dealing in," I said, stepping over a broken blaster rifle.

Jake, of course, was already scanning the area with one of his custom devices, a handheld scanner that could identify valuable tech and materials at a glance.

"Power cells, durasteel plating...oh, hello," he muttered, crouching to examine a crate. He pried it open with a vibroblade, revealing a stash of thermal detonators. "Looks like someone was planning to make a statement."

Mira snorted, keeping her blaster at the ready as she scanned the perimeter. "Not anymore."

We continued combing through the site, cataloging anything worth taking. There were credits, naturally—a fair amount, judging by the weight of the strongboxes we found—but also weapons, spice, and some high-grade slicing equipment. The syndicate had been preparing for more than just a deal.

"This is going to take a few trips," I said, gesturing to the growing pile of loot.

Jake smirked. "Good thing we've got the Nick droids. They're better at heavy lifting than I am."

"Not saying much," Mira quipped, earning a mock-offended look from Jake.

Despite the banter, the work was methodical. By the time we were done, the area was stripped of anything valuable or dangerous, leaving the syndicate and slavers with nothing but binders and regrets.

It was a good day's work, but it wasn't over yet. We still had to get these prisoners to the authorities—and hope that those authorities weren't worse than the ones we'd just taken down.

Arlos' P.O.V. :

The camp was quiet now, save for the hum of the droids' power cores and the occasional groan from the binders as the prisoners shifted uncomfortably. Sir Tarek and I had taken up positions to help watch over the slavers and syndicate scum alongside Sir Davik, who had the Skew droids stationed in a precise defensive perimeter. The droids, naturally, stood vigilant, their photoreceptors scanning for any hint of trouble. It left us organics with little to do but keep watch and chat.

Sir Tarek, standing with his blaster rifle slung casually across his chest, leaned toward me with a sly grin. "So, Arlos," he began, his tone conspiratorial, "how many of these slimy karking slavers did you take down today?"

I tilted my head, pretending to mull it over. I already knew the number, but it wouldn't hurt to make him wait for a moment. "A dozen," I said finally, keeping my tone neutral. "Seven of those were because they were too busy trying to take down the droids to notice me sneaking up on them."

Tarek's grin faltered for a split second, replaced by a look of exaggerated defeat. "A dozen?" he repeated, dragging the word out. "Stars above, Arlos, you're making the rest of us look bad."

I raised an eyebrow at him, biting back a smirk. "And you, Sir Tarek? How many?"

His defeated look vanished instantly, replaced by a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Oh, well, let me tell you," he said, puffing out his chest. "Eighty."

I blinked, forcing myself not to laugh. "Eighty?" I repeated, my tone carefully balanced between disbelief and mock awe.

"Oh, yes, eighty," Tarek said with a flourish, waving a hand as if the number was entirely reasonable. "It was a sight to behold, Arlos. I was practically dancing through the battlefield, blaster bolts flying past me like I was wearing beskar. One thug came at me with a vibroblade—poor fool didn't know what he was getting into. I disarmed him with a single shot to his weapon, then hit him with a roundhouse kick that sent him flying into two of his buddies. They went down like a stack of sabacc cards."

I nodded along, doing my best to look impressed. "And the rest?"

Tarek leaned in, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. "Ah, the rest were no match for my piloting skills, Arlos. You see, I didn't just fight on the ground. Oh, no. I took the Stellar Envoy into a low hover and used the laser turrets to scatter them like womp rats in a sandstorm. They didn't stand a chance."

It was all I could do to keep a straight face. I remembered the battle perfectly well, and none of that had happened. But I wasn't about to ruin Tarek's fun. Instead, I nodded eagerly, my eyes wide with feigned amazement. "Stars, Sir Tarek," I said, injecting as much excitement into my voice as I could muster. "That's incredible. You're like a one-man army."

Tarek beamed, clearly pleased with himself. "Well, you know," he said, trying and failing to sound modest, "it's all in a day's work. Someone's got to keep the galaxy safe from scum like this."

I suppressed a chuckle, glancing over at the prisoners, who were too busy glaring at the droids to pay attention to Tarek's tall tales. "They're lucky they didn't run into you sooner," I said.

Tarek nodded sagely. "Indeed. But let's not let this get to my head, Arlos. After all, it's a team effort."

"Of course, Sir Tarek," I said, giving him a grin. "A team effort."

As Tarek launched into another embellished story—this one involving a thermal detonator and a dramatic escape—I settled into my position, letting his voice fade into the background. Humor was something I'd learned to appreciate in the years since I'd been freed. It was a shield, a way to keep the darkness of the galaxy at bay. And if letting Tarek tell his stories brought him joy, then who was I to ruin it?

Besides, his stories weren't entirely useless. If nothing else, they made the time pass faster. And out here, in the middle of nowhere, with danger always lurking just beyond the horizon, that was no small thing.

Jake's P.O.V. :

The Nick droids had already started ferrying our "recovered assets" onto one of the speeders for transport back to the Stellar Envoy. I instructed them to prioritize anything reusable or legally sellable, while the rest would get logged for later sorting. It was hard not to scoff at the ragtag group of thugs we'd taken down—these wannabe syndicate players were barely a step above gutter rats. I found myself wondering aloud, "What happens next here?"

Kado raised an eyebrow but didn't respond, probably thinking I was talking to myself again. Honestly, I half was. If we vacated the area after this cleanup, what were the odds some other lowlife gang would move in? It might be worth a conversation in our next crew meeting—planning for what came after we broke these sorts of operations. Were we just kicking over anthills for the sake of it, or could we make these takedowns stick?

The Nick droids finished their rounds, their joints hissing quietly as they stacked crates on the speeder. With their enhanced scanners, they didn't even miss the concealed stashes hidden in makeshift floor panels. Efficient little scrappers, and when they delivered, they did it with a precision that'd make the Trade Federation jealous.

Meanwhile, Mira pinged us over the comms. She'd tracked down a non-corrupt authority to handle the arrests, which, frankly, felt like finding a kyber crystal in a sand dune. "Good work, Mira," I replied, masking my surprise. "Let us know when they're inbound. We're wrapping up here."

I leaned against one of the crates, crossing my arms as I watched the last of the prisoners squirm under Arlos and Tarek's watchful eyes. "You know," I mused, "this syndicate thinks they're big-time, but all they've got are blasters, bruisers, and bad decisions. If we took their measure as 'serious criminals,' they'd be laughed off Coruscant."

Kado grunted in agreement while helping lift the last crate. "Still, they're dangerous enough to the people they prey on. Don't underestimate desperation."

He had a point. Even now, my mind was buzzing with what might happen if we didn't leave a lasting impression. Would someone else fill the void? Or maybe, just maybe, we'd made a loud enough statement to keep the dust from settling too quickly.

The Nick droids returned, reporting their cargo was secured on the Envoy. Mira sent word that the authorities were on their way, ensuring we'd have time to clear out before they arrived. Satisfied the prisoners were doubly secured—no repeat performances from any slippery types—we packed up.

"Alright," I said, taking a final glance at the dismantled camp and the bound prisoners. "Back to the Envoy. We've still got folks to look after."

As the Stellar Envoy came into view, I couldn't help but feel the weight of what lay ahead. Saving people was one thing; figuring out the next steps for them was something else entirely.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

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Jktorres.55 · Apr 1, 2025

MULTI POV CHAPTER
Shmi's P.O.V. :

The Stellar Envoy hummed faintly beneath my feet, a steady reminder of its constant readiness, even at rest. We were docked in a bustling city, the kind where you could find anything from hyperdrive parts to black-market spice if you knew where to look—or where not to. The rescued victims had been handed off to authorities Mira vouched for. She insisted they were as clean as you'd find in a place like this, which I decided to trust. After all, Mira didn't take her recommendations lightly. If she believed in them, that was good enough for me.

Kado had taken Davik and Arlos out on what I could only describe as a dual-purpose mission. Ostensibly, they were finding buyers for the haul we'd picked up from the slaver camp—things like untraceable blasters, preserved rations, and even a few crates of medical supplies. But knowing Kado, they were also gathering intel. This city had layers, and the less savory parts were ripe with whispers, provided you were willing to grease a few palms or sip something questionable at a cantina.

Meanwhile, Rina had stationed herself in the cockpit with Tarek. From the bits and pieces I overheard, it seemed they were charting a course. Probably for some information broker job she'd picked up. Tarek was leaning heavily into his navigation skills, likely refining hyperspace lanes while Rina pieced together where they needed to go. It sounded like something she could've done remotely, but knowing her, she preferred having all the puzzle pieces laid out.

Jake, unsurprisingly, was busy entertaining Anakin. That boy looked at Jake like he was some kind of magician—and to be fair, the things Jake whipped up might as well have been magic to a six-year-old. Today's wonder was a little floating contraption he called a "snitch." It zipped and darted unpredictably, buzzing around like a malfunctioning probe droid, much to Anakin's delight. The kid was laughing so hard he nearly fell over, scrambling to catch it while it bobbed just out of reach. Jake, for his part, was grinning ear to ear, clearly enjoying being the hero of the moment.

Mira, of all people, had decided to take a nap. That one caught me off guard. I didn't think she ever stopped moving, let alone slowed down enough for rest. Seeing her stretch out on one of the crew bunks had been so unexpected I'd nearly dropped the ration packets I was carrying. I suppose even she wasn't immune to exhaustion, though I made a mental note to tease her about it later—gently, of course.

As for me, I found myself in the ship's galley, preparing a midday meal for those still aboard. The small space was a mix of old and new, much like everything on the Envoy. Jake had made sure the appliances worked better than most cantina-grade setups, but the cookware bore the wear of years of service.

I chopped a few nuna strips with practiced efficiency, adding them to a pan that hissed with sizzling oil. A mix of root vegetables and grains followed, seasoned with just enough local spices to make it feel less like starship fare. The scent began wafting through the ship, drawing an occasional curious glance from a passing Nick droid.

"Not for you," I murmured, shooing the droid away with my spatula. It beeped in what might've been indignation before trundling off.

As the stew bubbled, I let my thoughts wander. The crew's dynamic was a curious thing. We all had our roles, our specialties, but there was an unspoken bond that kept us moving forward. Even now, scattered across tasks, we were still working toward a common goal—whatever that might be at the moment.

I glanced at the chrono and realized the stew was ready. Grabbing bowls, I started ladling portions for those on the ship. No doubt Ani and Jake would be the first to show up, followed closely by a groggy Mira.

"Time to refuel," I muttered, setting the bowls on the table.

Life aboard the Stellar Envoy was rarely quiet, but in these moments—amid the hum of the ship and the aroma of a home-cooked meal—it felt almost peaceful. Almost.

Rina's P.O.V. :

The Stellar Envoy's cockpit was quiet save for the faint hum of the ship's systems and Tarek's steady muttering. He was cross-checking star charts, cross-referencing data with the over-engineered satellite mods Jake had installed. The modifications made the Envoy's sensors nearly on par with a dedicated surveyor vessel, a fact that had saved us countless times.

"These coordinates seem to hover near a known hyperspace lane," Tarek said, his voice tinged with his usual polite excitement. "But I'm also picking up anomalies in the vicinity. Nothing major! Probably debris fields or stray electromagnetic interference, Rina."

I leaned back in my chair, letting him work while I reviewed the request that had led us here. A client of mine—a cautious type who kept their face off the holonet and their name out of official records—had paid handsomely for these coordinates. They wanted confirmation of what was out there. Nothing more, nothing less.

With Jake's upgrades, I didn't need the elaborate setup I used to have back on Tatooine. Here, in the cockpit of the Envoy, I could gather data, analyze it, and send back a full report without stepping foot off the ship. For someone who thrived on efficiency, it was a dream come true.

My comms unit beeped, pulling my attention away from the console. A new message had come through. I opened it and scanned the contents quickly.

My client's interest just increased and he's not focused in just the data anymore. They wanted someone to physically check the site—a scouting run to confirm what the sensors couldn't. The tone of the message was cautious but insistent, as if they knew there was more to the story but weren't willing to share it just yet.

I raised an eyebrow at the additional details. The pay they were offering was generous—almost too generous I think—but not enough to set off alarms. If this were an ambush or a trap, it wouldn't be the most lucrative one. I knew of a few freelance crews who might take this job, groups I would've recommended without hesitation back when I worked solo.

But that was before I joined the crew. Before Jake's tinkering turned our ship into a marvel, before Mira's aim turned any firefight into a lopsided match, and before Kado's knack for strategy kept us ahead of the curve. Now, with the crew we had, there was no reason to outsource a job like this.

Tarek glanced over his shoulder, his expression as bright as a twin sun on a clear morning. "The anomalies I mentioned are minor, Rina. No signs of hyperlane disruption or pirate activity. The coordinates themselves look stable. If someone wanted to make a quick trip out there, it'd be a pretty straightforward jaunt!"

I smirked. "Straightforward, huh? Famous last words, Tarek."

His face flushed slightly, but his grin didn't falter. "Well, I mean, with our crew, we've got the skills to handle anything!"

He wasn't wrong. And while I wasn't one to tempt fate, the confidence in his tone was reassuring.

I leaned forward, typing out a quick reply to my client. I'd accept the job personally. With the Stellar Envoy and our team, it'd be more than manageable. And while scouting runs were rarely as simple as advertised, this one didn't seem like the kind of mission that'd spiral out of control.

"Send me the final sensor readings when you're done," I told Tarek. "I'll brief the others once we're all back aboard. Looks like we've got ourselves a new gig."

Tarek's excitement bubbled over, his optimism practically infectious. "Yes, ma'am! This is going to be fun—I mean, productive! Very productive!"

I chuckled softly at Tarek's attempt at being a professional and turned my attention back to the console. If nothing else, this job would give us a chance to stretch our legs. What could possibly go wrong?

Jake's P.O.V. :

In the workshop area of the Stellar Envoy, I had Anakin occupied with my latest creation—something inspired by a movie from Earth. The "snitch" was a small, golden orb with delicate wings that moved in a blur, flitting about erratically in a predefined area. I had based it on a magical flying object from a story about a boy wizard with a lightning-shaped scar. The purpose of this contraption was simple: evade capture. Anakin's task was to disable it using a pointer device I'd crafted that synchronized with the "snitch." Sounds easy, right? Wrong.

This thing wasn't just fast—it was sabaac-table-levels of unpredictable. It zipped around like a mynock on spice, changing directions without warning and occasionally cloaking itself with a near-invisibility field that I'd added for extra challenge. To top it off, I incorporated grav machine tech, giving it the ability to hover seamlessly and dart in three-dimensional space. The result was a maddeningly elusive target.

Anakin, for his part, was determined. His brow furrowed in deep concentration, and his small hands gripped the pointer like it was the hilt of a lightsaber. Every time the "snitch" juked out of his line of sight, I could see the frustration on his face. But he didn't give up. That's what I was counting on. The kid was a walking bundle of energy—he couldn't sit still for more than five minutes at a time. This exercise wasn't just to keep him distracted; it was also a subtle way to teach him focus.

My inner Obi-Wan was giddy at the thought. Patience, young Padawan. Oh, the memes I could unleash if only someone else here got the references. Still, the potential for teaching moments with Anakin made me feel oddly protective of the kid. Force-sensitive or not, he was sharp. And if this little game helped him learn to channel his energy, even better.

While Anakin darted around trying to track the "snitch," I was elbow-deep in upgrading the N5 Sentry droids. These units hadn't been part of the raid on the slavers' camp but had instead stayed back aboard the Stellar Envoy under Shmi's supervision, guarding the rescued slaves and securing the ship in case of stragglers. Their last test runs in defensive scenarios were adequate, but adequate wasn't good enough for me. I was retrofitting their targeting systems, tweaking the shield emitters for faster recharge rates, and testing new algorithms to improve their autonomous decision-making in combat scenarios. The work was satisfying, and the soft hum of tools and servos filled the room like music to my ears.

Then it hit me. A sudden, inexplicable chill ran down my spine. I paused, setting down the plasma torch I was holding, and looked around the workshop. Nothing seemed out of place. The droids stood inert, their systems offline while I worked. Anakin was still darting around, his focus entirely on the "snitch," which he'd almost—but not quite—managed to tag.

I frowned, rubbing the back of my neck. The sensation wasn't something I could explain away easily. It was the kind of feeling you got when someone invoked Murphy's Law—when you just knew something was about to go sideways. My gaze lingered on the droids, then on the tools scattered across the workbench, and finally on the open doorway leading out into the rest of the ship.

"Great," I muttered under my breath. "Someone just had to poke the nexu."

I shook it off, trying to focus on the task at hand. The crew was scattered, each working on their part of our latest gig. There was no reason to think anything was amiss. And yet, the feeling lingered. Like a storm brewing on the horizon, waiting for just the right moment to strike.

"Jake! I got it!" Anakin's triumphant shout pulled me out of my thoughts. The kid was grinning ear to ear, holding the disabled "snitch" aloft like a trophy. I couldn't help but smile back.

"Good job, kid," I said, ruffling his hair. "Now let's see if you can do it again."

As I reset the "snitch" and sent it zipping off for another round, I couldn't shake the unease gnawing at the back of my mind. Something was coming. I just hoped we'd be ready for it.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

You can visit my patreon page for other content
P A T R E O N . C O M / TofferPlays
(but only if you want to, okay?)

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Jktorres.55 · Apr 1, 2025

MULTI POV CHAPTER
Jake's P.O.V. :

Team meetings aboard the Stellar Envoy always had a rhythm, a predictable flow that I'd come to expect. Normally, Davik or Kado would kick things off with a rundown of galactic events—the kind of stuff that might be relevant to us, but more often than not just sounded like interstellar gossip. Maybe I was being unfair and they really were that professional, but you have to admit that the way Davik described a Hutt syndicate's latest internal power struggle had a flair for drama.

After the galactic gossip hour, we'd move on to stock checks and supply status. This was what I'd dubbed "Kado things," since he always presented it with the precision of a ship quartermaster, even though he wasn't officially one. Once that was wrapped up, it was Davik's turn to report on the armory, which I called "Davik things." His updates were always peppered with minor gripes about wear-and-tear or suggestions for new gear we'd probably never see unless someone dropped a treasure chest full of credits in our laps.

So imagine my confusion when this meeting started with Kado—our usual voice of calm, calculated reason—waving his arms around like a malfunctioning protocol droid, trying to convince me not to build a lightsaber.

"Look, Jake," he began, his voice strained like a speeder's repulsorlift straining under a heavy load. "I know how your mind works. You've probably already thought about it. But I'm telling you—no, I'm begging you—don't. Build. A. Lightsaber."

I blinked at him, caught off guard. "I wasn't planning to," I said, which was the truth. Sure, the thought had crossed my mind once or twice—who wouldn't want to tinker with one of the most iconic weapons in the galaxy? But even I knew it was a bad idea. If the Jedi caught wind of it, we'd be toast faster than you could say, "bantha on a spit."

"Oh, come on, Kado," I added, giving him my best lopsided grin. "You think I'm crazy enough to actually try that?"

Kado didn't look convinced. "Yes! Absolutely! You're the guy who took a grav machine and turned it into a personal gauntlet that can mimic Jedi Force tricks! If anyone's insane enough to try building a lightsaber, it's you."

Okay, fair point.

The longer he went on, the more animated he became. At one point, he was pacing back and forth, muttering things like, "The Jedi would hunt us down," and "Do you even realize how much heat that would bring?" Watching him unravel was oddly entertaining, and—I'll admit—it gave me ideas. What if I didn't build a lightsaber, but just made something that looked like one?

A prank was forming in my mind, and I was already mentally cataloging the materials I'd need. A hologram emitter, a convincing handle, maybe a subtle sound effect generator to mimic that iconic ignition hum… Oh, this could be good. Really good.

I didn't even realize I was laughing out loud—the kind of laugh you'd hear from a mad scientist in a holodrama—until Kado stopped mid-rant and stared at me.

"Jake," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What are you doing? That laugh… you're doing that laugh. You're thinking of something ridiculous, aren't you?"

I tried to school my expression into something resembling innocence, but the smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth betrayed me. "I'm just… considering my options," I said vaguely.

"Don't," Kado warned. "Whatever it is, just don't."

Tarek, who had been quietly observing the exchange from his seat, leaned in with an eager grin. "I don't know, Kado. Maybe we should let Jake tinker. What's the worst that could happen?"

Kado shot him a look that could have melted durasteel. "The worst that could happen? We end up on the Jedi Council's most wanted list! That's the worst that could happen!"

I raised my hands in mock surrender. "Relax, Kado. I'm not building a lightsaber. But hypothetically…"

"No," Kado said firmly.

"But—"

"No."

I sighed dramatically. "Fine. No lightsaber. Hypothetically or otherwise."

Of course, I didn't say anything about holograms. As Kado turned back to his notes, I exchanged a sly look with Tarek. I'd loop him and Rina in later—if anyone could help make this prank unforgettable, it was them.

After that weird but admittedly amusing start to our team meeting and Kado finally calming down—probably accepting my promise to do as he asked—Kado began with the latest news he'd managed to gather with the help of Davik and Mira. The first topic was the recent conflict on Malachor V. According to publicly accepted reports, the events there were chalked up to a violent skirmish between pirate bands and mercenaries. But the underworld sources painted a far more interesting picture.

The gossip from the shadowy corners of the galaxy seemed to converge on two main points. First, there was something important in the debris field of Malachor V. Most of the fighting apparently transpired there, making it the focal point of whatever treasure or secret everyone was scrambling for. It occurred to me that the groups involved—be they mercenaries, thugs sent by Gardulla, or the pirates I'm still convinced work for her—likely had no idea of each other's loyalties. Nor, perhaps, were they all entirely clued in about the "prize" they were competing for. Just a messy free-for-all in the dark, like piranha beetles in a barrel.

The second point was more intriguing: at least one of the groups present on Malachor had an entirely different purpose—an ambush. Who they intended to ambush wasn't clear, though I had my theories. My guess was that Gardulla's hired hands had planned to spring a trap for whoever had been tasked with repairing and decoding the data from the "Old Republic Era Relic"—the one predating the Ruusan Reformation. I couldn't shake the idea that the threads all connected back to her somehow.

I shared my theories with the crew, laying out the possibilities as logically as I could. When I brought up the group that fired on us during our attempted return to the exploded station, I mentioned the likelihood that they might have recovered something before we got there. Some of the crew were skeptical but agreed it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility. I reassured everyone—despite being the one to stir up the unease—that the underground Vault itself had been destroyed when I triggered its self-destruct mechanism. Whatever we hadn't taken, no one else could get their hands on.

Mira, ever practical, volunteered to dig up more information from her underworld contacts. Rina immediately offered to help, noting that with the two of them on the job, we'd likely get a clearer picture instead of the usual half-truths and rumors. That seemed to settle everyone for the moment.

Kado, taking the lull as a cue to move on, brought up the next piece of news. Apparently, Jabba the Hutt had been stirring the proverbial pot lately. He'd been stepping up interference with other crime lords—including his fellow Hutts—while also adding more muscle to his roster. We all agreed it was possible that some of Jabba's men might have been among the groups active on Malachor V. It wasn't a stretch, given Jabba's penchant for keeping his slimy hands in every pie.

After that, the rest of the news Kado shared mostly concerned the Core Worlds and the Mid Rim: a senator's recent birthday, grumblings about the Trade Federation's unfair pricing practices, and whispers about the Banking Clan's borderline-criminal interest rates. Standard fare for galactic politics.

Internally, I couldn't help but think all of this nonsense had Darth Sidious's shadowy fingerprints all over it. And Darth "Plague-wise?"—or whatever Palpatine's master was called. For the life of me, I couldn't remember the guy's name. I made a mental note to expedite my plans for force-null droids. If I could get my Skew and Nick droid models to counteract the influence of the Force, we'd have a serious edge. That idea would have to wait until after I finished upgrading the N5 droids' systems, though.

Just as the usual news rundown wrapped up, Shmi spoke up with a question. Her tone was thoughtful, and something about it hinted that she'd been turning the matter over in her mind for a while. It caught my attention immediately, and I put down the tools I'd been fiddling with to give her my full focus. This sounded like it was going to be important.

Shmi's P.O.V. :

The moment Kado signaled the floor was open before the next topic, I seized the opportunity. I didn't want to forget, and this felt as good a time as any.

"I have a question about Anakin," I began, glancing around the room to make sure I had everyone's attention. "Do you think we can find him some new clothes here in the local market?"

Kado tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly. "Didn't we already pick up a wardrobe for places not as…" he paused, searching for the word, "…crispy as Tatooine?"

I nodded. "We did, but it looks like our little Ani's hit a growth spurt. His sleeves are creeping up his arms, and his pants look like they're ready to give up the fight altogether." I let out a soft chuckle before continuing. "He's been eating like a gorg at a buffet lately, and all that exercise he's getting from playing with 'Zero' hasn't slowed him down one bit."

I noticed Jake groan at the mention of the name. He pinched the bridge of his nose dramatically, muttering something about "better naming conventions" under his breath. I couldn't help but smirk. For all his grumbling, he doted on that boy as much as any of us.

"I can extend the time I spend with him," Jake offered. "We've already got a rhythm going with the droids and mechanical stuff. I'll throw in some extra projects to keep him occupied. Maybe we can build him a speeder that doesn't explode this time."

"Hey, I liked that speeder," Tarek chimed in, raising a hand. "But count me in. Ani's got a real knack for ships, and I'd be happy to show him a few tricks in the cockpit. He's already a natural at learning controls—just needs to work on not touching everything all at once."

Davik leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. "If we're all pitching in, maybe I can make a little game for him. Something to practice… you know, just in case he ever needs to hide during trouble."

I gasped audibly, the idea of Anakin needing to hide from danger sending a jolt through me. My hand flew to my chest, and I gave Davik a wide-eyed look. "Hide from danger? Ani?"

Davik was quick to wave his hands in reassurance. "No, no, Shmi! I'm just saying… you never know, right? It's not about expecting trouble, but being prepared for anything. We've got the crew, the droids… he'd be safe. Just… y'know, a precaution. That's all."

I narrowed my eyes at him, but my lips curled into a playful smirk. "All right, Davik. But I'll have you know, if you keep scaring me like that, I'm going to start serving you bland food. Maybe nothing but ration bars for a week."

Davik's hands shot up in mock surrender. "You wouldn't dare! All right, all right, I'll behave. You win, Shmi."

That broke the tension, and soon enough, the room filled with laughter. Even I couldn't keep up my pretense of sternness. The sight of Kado trying not to chuckle and Jake shaking his head in amused disbelief warmed my heart. These people had become my family, and even in moments of levity, that bond was undeniable.

As the laughter subsided, Kado cleared his throat, his voice regaining its usual calm. "All right, then. Let's get back on track. But first, let's make sure to add Anakin's clothes to the list. We'll make it a priority."

"Thank you," I said, my gratitude evident in my tone. It wasn't just about the clothes—it was about the way they all cared for everyone including Ani, like a troublemaker of an assistant, Anakin was one of their own.

Rina's P.O.V. :

With Shmi's request addressed and Kado signaling for us to move forward, the meeting shifted to what has become a customary moment: Jake's turn to dazzle—or, more often than not, baffle—us with his latest projects. This time, he began by outlining the status of the N5 Sentry droids.

Jake's upgrades were, as expected, impressive. He'd managed to integrate advanced scanners, enhancing the targeting algorithms to rival the precision of his Nick droids. He even calibrated the new gravity modulators, which he claimed would give the N5 units better stability and maneuverability, especially in uneven terrain. On top of that, he added ship crew protocols, enabling the droids to assist with basic repairs and even operate the Stellar Envoy's turrets if needed. The way he casually described these improvements made it all sound routine, but the sheer amount of work involved was staggering.

Then Jake shifted gears, quite literally, to show off his latest creation: the "Decoy Ball." Or at least that's what he called it. The problem was, the thing wasn't a ball at all. It was very clearly square.

"Jake," I said, raising an eyebrow as I picked up the angular device from the table. "Are you sure you know what a ball looks like?"

He looked defensive, like a Loth-cat cornered in a pantry. "It's called the Decoy Ball because 'Decoy Square' sounds... silly. Like the name of a market or something."

I stared at him, deadpan. "And 'Decoy Box' didn't occur to you? You know, a word that actually fits its shape?"

The faintest hint of color rose to his cheeks, and I could see him struggling not to admit I had a point. The crew burst into laughter at our back-and-forth, and after a moment, Jake let out a resigned sigh. "Fine. You win. It's the Decoy Box now. Happy?"

"Very." I smirked, setting the device down as the laughter settled. To spare Jake from more teasing—he was still grumbling under his breath about names—I moved the meeting along to my turn.

"I've got news about a potential side job," I said, immediately earning the attention of the crew. "It's a chance to take a break from blowing up pirate ships and raiding slaver camps. Something simple for a change."

Naturally, questions followed.

"Who's the client?" asked Kado, leaning forward.

"How much are they paying?" Davik chimed in, already looking intrigued.

"What's the actual job?" Tarek added, his tone cautious.

I held up a hand to keep things orderly. "First off, the client is one of my usual contacts from my info broker work. He's a private individual who values his anonymity, but I've worked with him before. His transactions are always straightforward, and my contacts in the underworld have never flagged him for dishonesty."

That seemed to satisfy Kado and the others for the moment. "As for payment," I continued, "the client's offering 30,000 pegats. That's about 300,000 Republic credits, give or take."

Davik let out a low whistle, his eyebrows rising. "That's enough to buy three Stellar Envoys. Generous for a side gig."

"Exactly," I said, grinning. "Now, for the job itself: the client needs a team to investigate a suspected anomaly. He's been getting conflicting readings from his ship's scanners and wants a physical confirmation of what's there. According to him, there's no danger—he's certain because his ship has been ejected from hyperspace near the anomaly three separate times."

Tarek frowned thoughtfully. "A hyperspace disruption zone?"

"Possibly," I said with a shrug. "The client didn't give a lot of specifics, just that it's baffling his tech. The mission's simple: check out the location, document whatever's there, and report back. Straightforward, no complications."

"And you've already accepted the job," Kado guessed, folding his arms.

"Of course," I replied. "With that kind of pay, how could I say no? What could possibly go wrong?"

It was a rhetorical question—an attempt to keep the mood light—but my words had an unintended effect. From across the table, Jake gave me the deadest stare I've ever seen, the kind of look that could wilt a fresh blossom vine.

I blinked at him, confused. "What?"

Jake didn't respond immediately, just shook his head as if I'd done something profoundly reckless. It wasn't until later that I realized what I'd done because according to Jake: I'd just challenged someone called Murphy. And judging by Jake's expression, he was the only one in the room who understood the gravity of that mistake.

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Jktorres.55 · Apr 3, 2025

Tarek's P.O.V. :

Today marks the third day since the meeting, and it's the day we finally tackle the side job Rina brought to the crew. Before diving into hyperspace anomalies, though, we made a quick pit stop to fulfill Shmi's request for a shopping trip. Can't say anyone complained, especially when we got a look at Anakin. The kid's hit a growth spurt, all right—sprouted a full inch and a half taller in no time flat. For a four-year-old, that kind of growth isn't just noticeable; it's impressive. Watching him dart around the market like a Tooka kitten chasing a holo-toy, it was hard to begrudge the detour.

After loading up on essentials, a handful of spare parts Jake insisted were "probably unnecessary but you never know," and a few extra sets of clothes for the kid, we headed back to the Stellar Envoy. The job awaited, and we weren't about to leave credits on the table.

Now, with Nick-03 in the co-pilot's seat and Rina occupying the support chair, I'm busy in the pilot's seat, triple-checking every setting, vector, and calculation for this mission. Hyperlane anomalies aren't something you approach casually—not unless you've got a death wish or a ship you're willing to scrap. And since I'm rather fond of the Stellar Envoy and my continued existence, thorough preparation is the name of the game.

Rina leaned forward, datapad in hand, and rattled off the client's original report. "He said his ship got booted out of hyperspace three times in roughly the same spot. Direction of travel: Coreward. Ship status: sublight systems powered down, shields at minimal, and inertial dampeners calibrated for standard efficiency. Got all that?"

I nodded, adjusting a few dials on the control panel. "Got it. We're mirroring everything. Same route, same flight parameters, same system configuration. If we're going to replicate whatever happened, we'll need to mimic the circumstances down to the last detail."

Nick-03 chimed in, his modulated voice calm and matter-of-fact. "Navigational vector input confirmed. Hyperspace coordinates locked. Awaiting final verification, Captain."

I suppressed a grin. Jake's Nick-03 droid is a solid copilot. Sure, they didn't have the charm or instincts of a sentient partner, but when it came to precision, they were karking flawless - although with a really unique quirk.

Rina set the datapad down and leaned back, crossing her arms. "Any guesses on what we'll find? Scanner glitch? Random gravitic interference? A surprise black hole?" She tossed out the last one with a smirk, but there was a flicker of genuine curiosity in her eyes.

I considered it for a moment, tapping my fingers on the yoke. "If I had to guess? Could be a gravimetric anomaly—a ripple in the hyperspace lane caused by a mass shadow nearby. Those can throw you out of hyperspace if you get too close. But if that's all it is, the client wouldn't have hired us. They'd have gotten some Nav Bureau tech to clean it up."

"So what are you thinking?"

I glanced at her. "Honestly? Could be anything. Rogue debris field, old Republic-era mines that haven't gone inert yet, or maybe someone's set up a gravity well generator. If it's pirates or slavers trying to ambush travelers, we'll find out soon enough."

"Comforting," Rina deadpanned, but I caught the faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Relax," I said, flipping a switch to bring the hyperdrive out of standby. "We've got the Nick droids, upgraded shields, and enough firepower to discourage anyone looking to pick a fight. Worst case, we just jump back to realspace and recalibrate."

She didn't argue, though her gaze lingered on the main viewport as if she were already trying to anticipate what lay ahead. For all her sarcasm and swagger, Rina was sharp as a vibroblade when it came to high-stakes situations. I appreciated having her in the support chair—she'd spot trouble as fast as anyone.

"All systems green," Nick-03 announced. "Course plotted and verified. Ready to enter hyperspace on your mark."

I gripped the yoke and let out a steadying breath. "All right, folks. Let's see what kind of trouble Rina's mystery client has sent us into."

With a pull of the lever, the Stellar Envoy surged into hyperspace, the starlines stretching and twisting as the ship hurtled forward. The hum of the hyperdrive filled the cockpit, steady and reassuring. Everything was running smooth—so far.

"Now we wait," Rina said, settling back into her seat. "Any bets on how long before something weird happens?"

I smirked. "Knowing our luck? Not long."

Jake's P.O.V. :

Just as I heard Tarek announce our entry into hyperspace en route to the nearest star system, I was elbows-deep in recalibrating the sensors for Nick-01 and Nick-02. Sure, the Stellar Envoy's scanners are solid—custom-tweaked by yours truly—but there's a saying I am learning to live by: Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. If we run into anything dodgy, having the Nick droids ready to scout outside could save us some headache.

I'd also taken the liberty of strapping prototype jetpacks to the Nick droids. The design was inspired—loosely, mind you—by the Mandalorians and their tech we'd encountered a while back. Those jetpacks were a masterpiece of engineering, but I'm not looking to copy them outright. Not unless I'm eager to dodge a group of bounty hunters aiming for my head for "dishonoring Mandalorian heritage" or some nonsense. Mine are simpler, with no built-in rocket launchers—yet. I'm not trying to start a war.

Still, this is a test run. If it works, I'll tweak the design for the crew. Practicality aside, the idea of me, Tarek, or even Davik zipping around with jetpacks in a firefight is just too good to pass up. For now, though, the Nick droids are my guinea pigs.

Not to leave Skew droids out of the fun, I'd added magnetic locks to their legs. If we end up needing to send them outside, I'm making sure they'll cling to the Stellar Envoy like mynocks to a power cable. Plus, the thought of the Nick droids zipping around while the Skews toddle along the ship's surface like it's nothing amuses me more than it probably should.

Meanwhile, I had Anakin help Shmi with some maintenance on the N5 Sentry droid. The kid's energy is boundless lately, and having him focus on something productive keeps him from climbing the walls. I even gave him the green light to personalize the droid's aesthetic. It's not every day you see a battle droid with "personality," and honestly? I want to see what the kid comes up with.

From the sound of things in the common area, the rest of the crew was taking a well-earned break. Kado was teaching Arlos how to play sabacc, though judging by the groans of frustration, he wasn't faring too well. Mira and Davik were watching the match unfold, grinning like Loth-cats stalking a particularly clueless womp rat. If the mood in there was anything to go by, Kado's sabacc face could use some work.

As I finished up with Nick-02's recalibration, the thought struck me: with our history of jobs becoming exciting - this might be the calm before the storm. The hyperspace anomaly we're heading for? No telling what we'll find. Could be a simple sensor hiccup, or it could be something that turns this ship inside out. Either way, we'll handle it - probably.

Wait - I remember Rina jinxing us, Dank Farrik!

Rina's P.O.V. :

I unconsciously turned my head toward the corridor leading deeper into the ship. For a split second, I swore I felt like someone was talking about me. Brushing the thought aside, I leaned forward slightly and told Tarek we were approaching the first system where we could test the anomaly our client experienced—being ejected from hyperspace mid-transit.

Tarek gave a crisp, professional acknowledgment, his tone clipped like he was addressing a flight academy instructor. I almost smirked. He's been like this ever since Nick-03 started calling him "captain." I swear, being addressed like that by a droid has him determined to live up to the title. Not that it matters much—Nick-03 calls everyone captain. Even Anakin, who, if you ask me, finds it endlessly amusing.

Moments later, we dropped back into realspace, and Nick-03 immediately started running through a verbal checklist of conditions we needed to match for the jump. The droid's monotone delivery didn't bother me; it was oddly reassuring hearing the steps laid out, like a pilot droid giving final clearance.

Tarek, meanwhile, was already maneuvering the Stellar Envoy into position for the next jump, his focus unwavering. I could see the glint of determination in his eyes—probably still trying to impress the droid.

"Alright," Tarek announced suddenly, his voice laced with a kind of glee that stood in stark contrast to his earlier professional tone. "Let's kick this mission into hyperspace!"

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the grin tugging at my lips. So much for the serious act. Still, there was something endearing about his enthusiasm. I leaned back, keeping one hand on the console as we surged into hyperspace.

Now came the waiting game. Would we get ejected, or would this hyperspace lane prove as ordinary as any other? Either way, I couldn't shake the sense of anticipation.

Because experience taught me that when you fly the Stellar Envoy and it's crew, the ordinary has a way of turning extraordinary—and the extraordinary often means trouble - usually this involves blasters and explosions.

Jake's P.O.V. :

After finishing up the upgrades on the Skew and Nick droids, I gave a casual wave to the group playing Sabacc in the common area as I made my way to the cockpit. If I caught the chatter correctly, we were currently flying through the hyperspace lane where Rina's mysterious client kept getting forcefully ejected. Now, here's the thing about hyperspace anomalies—they don't just happen without a kriffing good reason.

From what I know—and I've logged more time than I care to admit pouring over hyperdrive schematics and hyperspace theory—getting ejected mid-jump is no small thing. You'd need something like:

A massive gravitational field—maybe a rogue black hole or a collapsed star causing enough interference to trip the hyperdrive's failsafes.
A planetary body or station masking its mass shadow—though that level of stealth tech is rare outside of black-market.
Hyperspace interdictors—those aren't exactly standard fare outside of high-end military fleets.
Localized subspace disturbances—those usually burn out before they affect ships.
Gravity Wells – Artificial ones, like those generated by an Interdictor cruiser. But the Galactic Empire technically doesn't yet.
Binary Star Fields – Natural gravity traps. Unlikely, though, since lanes are mapped to avoid those hazards.
Cloaked Masses – Could be an asteroid cluster or an ancient derelict generating a passive gravity pull.
Hyperwave Distortion – Rare, but hyperspace itself can be distorted by strong energy emissions in realspace.

Hmm, some of those seem to be redundant reasons...

I was still chewing over these possibilities as I arrived at the cockpit. I greeted Tarek and Rina, sparing a nod for Nick-03, who promptly addressed me as "captain" again. I sighed internally at its insistence on this quirk but didn't bother correcting it.

After the pleasantries, I asked for a status update. Rina, looking both amused and mildly exasperated, informed me that the first attempt to replicate the anomaly had been a bust. Optimistically, though, she reminded me we still had three more hyperspace lanes to test.

But before she could finish, the ship jolted hard, and I barely registered her yelp before the Stellar Envoy was forcefully ejected from hyperspace. The sudden deceleration caught all of us off guard, and I nearly lost my footing. Would've face-planted into the cockpit floor if Rina hadn't snagged my jacket and yanked me back upright.

"Try to keep standing, captain," she muttered dryly, her grip firm as I caught my breath.

"Appreciate the save," I replied, ignoring her smirk.

Tarek was already in "captain mode," his voice sharp as a vibroblade as he ordered Nick-03 to run full scans. Meanwhile, Rina was busy checking the panels. "No identifiable readings in the immediate vicinity," she reported. "Nothing that screams 'hyperspace anomaly.'"

Leaning over her console, I threw in a suggestion. "What about testing the scan frequencies? It could be something buried under the standard bands."

Nick-03 chimed in immediately, its mechanical tone a little too smug for my taste. "All frequencies accounted for per preloaded parameters."

I blinked. Should I feel annoyed that my idea was dismissed, or smug that I'd already accounted for it in the programming? Decisions, decisions.

The scans cycled through the basics, then pivoted to my more advanced settings. Orbital drift computations? Check. Multi-spectrum light analysis? Also check. So far, we'd come up with bantha poodoo—no gravitational interference, no mass shadows, no subspace anomalies.

"Well," I muttered, grinning as the idea struck me. "Looks like I finally get to send my droids outside."

Rina groaned. "Oh no. Not this again."

"Oh yes," I countered, already rubbing my hands together with anticipation. This wasn't just about solving the mystery—it was a chance to field-test my upgrades in a real scenario.

I couldn't help myself. A low, maniacal chuckle bubbled up as I pictured the Nick droids jetpacking around the ship and the Skew droids clinging to the hull like mynocks. Rina, predictably, kicked me in the shin.

"Cut it out, you mad gundark," she snapped, though her tone was more amused than angry.

Ignoring her, I kept laughing—because who gets to have this much fun working?

Then, to my delight, Nick-03 attempted to mimic my laugh, producing a distorted, mechanical cackle. That sent me into full-blown hysterics. Rina buried her face in her hands. "This is what I deal with," she muttered.

"Relax," I said, waving her off. "This is going to be fun."

With Tarek adjusting our position to stabilize the ship, I got to work deploying the Nick and Skew droids. Time to find out what in the blazes had yanked us out of hyperspace.

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Jktorres.55 · Apr 4, 2025

MULTI POV CHAPTER
Jake's P.O.V. :

I had already sent Nick-01 and Nick-02 outside into the void, the cold vacuum of space, where they were now maneuvering with precision thanks to the jetpacks I had attached to them earlier. Those packs were still prototypes, but I had confidence in their performance—enough that I didn't expect the droids to need retrieval assistance. That said, the Skew droids were a different story. Unlike the Nicks, they weren't sporting thrusters. Instead, I had them sticking to the hull using their newly modified magnetic clamps. Even though I was certain of my upgrades, I wasn't about to risk losing a Skew droid to the abyss if the magnetism somehow failed. So, I secured a retrieval cable to the backs of Skew-01 and Skew-02, triple-checking the tensile strength and anchor points to make sure the line wouldn't snap.

From the comms, I caught Rina suggesting to Tarek that he minimize our own emissions. Smart move—I would've suggested the same if I had thought of it first. Cutting down on the ship's energy signatures would help reduce the "noise" in our scans, making it easier to pick up any anomalies in the surrounding area. Normally, this wouldn't be an issue, not with the kind of advanced scanners on the market, and definitely not with the modifications I had installed on the Stellar Envoy. But with an unknown anomaly in play, it was better to stack the deck in our favor.

From my spot, I heard Tarek and Nick-03 in the cockpit. The pilot was flicking switches and pressing buttons, methodically shifting the ship's systems into a low-power state. He wasn't shutting everything down outright—this wasn't some backrocket freighter that needed full-on power cycling—but from my observation, a lot of our systems were shifting into a standby mode. I smirked; he was getting better at this. Maybe Nick-03 calling him "captain" all the time was starting to make him take the role more seriously.

After ensuring the Skew droids were secure, I sealed the access hatch and set the airlock to depressurize so they could deploy. The Skews' sensor suites weren't as good as the Nicks', but they were still leagues above the standard droid sensors you'd find in the open market. Every extra pair of optics outside gave us a better chance of spotting whatever was interfering with hyperspace travel in this lane.

Satisfied with my work, I left the airlock behind and headed back to the common area, where Kado, Davik, Mira, and Arlos had stopped playing Sabacc. Now, they were busy checking over their gear, going through their usual routine of field-stripping and calibrating their weapons. It was a sight I was more than familiar with—mercs didn't leave their blasters to chance, and these guys were no exception.

Figuring they had the right idea, I decided to follow suit. I made my way over to my own kit and started strapping into my combat armor, sealing the plating into place and double-checking that everything was vacuum-rated. No telling if we'd need to step outside, and I wasn't about to be the idiot caught without proper protection. As I ran through my own checklist, I called out to the others.

"Double-check your suits! I don't want any of you karking your own seals!"

Davik rolled his eyes but went over his gear again anyway. Mira smirked as she tightened the straps on her blast vest, while Kado and Arlos exchanged glances before nodding in agreement. I was going to check their suits myself anyway, but a reminder never hurt.

With our preparations handled, all that was left was to wait. Out in the void, it was up to Tarek, Rina, Nick-03, and the droids to find whatever was messing with this hyperspace lane. I didn't like sitting on my hands, I prefer to at least be tinkering with something but for now, that was our best move. If something went sideways, we'd best be ready.

It probably took me about fifteen minutes checking my gear and running through the others' equipment in the common area before I decided to head back to the cockpit. If we were going to get into any trouble, I wanted to be sure everyone was properly sealed up. No one was arguing with me about the precaution—not even Davik, who usually grumbled about excess prep work. That alone told me that the strange hyperspace ejections are being taken seriously or it's possible that Davik not grumbling shows that he considers the possibility of getting ejected out of airlock.

By the time I arrived in the cockpit, I caught Tarek and Rina in the middle of discussing the latest scan results. From what I overheard, they were running through every possible lead the droids had gathered so far. Before they could continue, I decided to jump in.

"What's the latest?" I asked, stepping up to the console where Rina was skimming through the data feeds.

She barely glanced away from the displays as she answered. "Well, good news first—we managed to pick up some ship signatures once we minimized our own emissions. Looks like we weren't the only ones who got kicked out of hyperspace along this lane."

That got my attention. I moved in closer to examine the readings. The ships Rina was talking about were cold—lifeless, adrift in the void. They weren't registering any active power signatures, and from the way they were drifting, they had been left to float for some time.

"Did they send out distress signals?" I asked.

Tarek shook his head. "If they did, nothing's left of it now. No active comm beacons, no energy readings beyond the residual decay of old systems."

"That's strange," I murmured, narrowing my eyes as I focused on one of the wrecks. The hull design looked unfamiliar, yet oddly reminiscent of a time long past. It wasn't standard Republic, Trade Federation, or even Mandalorian. I leaned in, running a few quick calculations on the decay rate of the ship's alloys before something clicked in my mind. "These designs… do they remind you of some museum ships, like old. I'm talking pre-Ruusan Reformation old, maybe even dating back to that era."

That got Rina's attention. She frowned. "You're saying these ships are over a thousand years old?"

I nodded. "The tech suggests as much. And if they've been stuck here for that long… that raises the question of why."

Tarek exhaled sharply and crossed his arms. "Why abandon them? Even if the ships lost power, crews don't just leave perfectly good hulls drifting in space unless something serious happened."

The cockpit went silent for a beat as we all considered that implication. I didn't like the thought of it. Starship graveyards didn't just happen without a reason, and the fact that there was no immediate evidence of why these ships had been left behind only made it more unsettling.

Rina shook off the grim atmosphere and switched to the next set of scans. "There's something else. We picked up a cluster of asteroids, but some of them are a lot bigger than expected. We're talking over two Lucrehulks wide, side by side."

I raised an eyebrow. That was massive—definitely big enough to house something.

Tarek was already ahead of me. "Cross-referencing with the droids' visuals. They found something."

The holo-display updated with an overlay of the scans, pinpointing a structure embedded within one of the largest asteroids. It wasn't a natural formation. The readings indicated constructed materials, albeit heavily deteriorated by time and space exposure.

"A station?" I guessed.

"Possibly," Rina admitted. "Mining station is the best bet given the location, but there's no official record of anything out here. Whoever built this place wanted it off the records or charts."

Tarek leaned back in his seat, rubbing his chin. "We're already out here investigating. Might as well take a closer look."

I smirked. "You're just looking for an excuse to fly closer to a potential death trap."

Tarek shot me a grin. "Hey, I got a reputation to maintain."

Rina rolled her eyes and mumbled "what reputation?" while Tarek started adjusting the Stellar Envoy's course. "Nick droids are already on their way back. They're securing themselves to the hull so they can hitch a ride in case we need them."

I folded my arms and nodded. "Good to hear. The Skew droids are still out there, too. I'll keep them tethered, but they should be able to hold onto the hull on their own."

Tarek flipped a few switches, adjusting power distribution to the sublight drives. "Alright, let's go take a look at possible history."

Rina sighed. "Let's try not to become history instead."

I chuckled, but the uneasy feeling in my gut didn't fade. Specially with Rina jinxing us again quite recently, but I can't really place the blame on Rina since even without her calling out Murphy shit still hits the fan. Something was out here, abandoned ships and a mysterious structure - I feel like I'm in a horror movie.

Tarek's P.O.V. :

With the Nick droids latching onto the hull and the Skew droids secured, I kept my hands steady on the yoke, waiting for confirmation that they were locked in place before making any moves. The last thing I needed was to shake them loose with a rough maneuver and have Jake chew me out for losing his walking toolkits to the void.

Jake and Rina were going back and forth behind me, throwing out possibilities about whether salvaging some of the adrift ships would be worth the effort. Some of them looked ancient, and while I wasn't opposed to picking through some old relics, my priority was getting a closer look at whatever structure was sitting inside that asteroid. Nick-03 was relaying updates over the comms, keeping the rest of the crew in the loop but conveniently leaving out the theories we were tossing around up here. Probably for the best—no sense getting the others wound up over speculation when we didn't have solid facts yet.

I tapped a few switches on the console, making sure the ship's turrets were ready to go in case this wasn't just an abandoned rock. "We're flying careful, but I want eyes on the guns," I said.

"On it," came Davik's reply, followed by Arlos confirming he'd take the other turret. No complaints, no hesitation. Just like our practice.

I nudged the throttle forward just enough to get us moving, keeping our approach slow and steady. I wasn't about to jolt the ship forward and risk our droids tumbling off like some rookie handling their first barge. Besides, taking our time gave the scanners more opportunity to dig deeper now that we knew what we were looking for. If this turned out to be more than just some stripped-down mining station, I wanted to know about it before we were knocking on its front door.

As we crept closer, the visuals got clearer. The asteroid wasn't just some chunk of rock with a prefab station bolted onto its surface—it was more like a shell encasing something much bigger. The initial scans showed that the structure didn't just sit on top of the asteroid; it extended deep inside. More than likely, this rock had been hollowed out over time, stripped of whatever minerals were worth taking, and then repurposed into a full-scale installation.

"Look at the size of that thing," Rina muttered, adjusting her readout. "If this was a mining outpost, it must've been operational for decades—maybe longer."

"Long enough that it might not be just a mining outpost anymore," Jake added. "No signs of active power, no transmissions, no life support signatures… but that doesn't mean there's nothing inside."

I exhaled through my nose, gripping the controls a little tighter. "We'll get as close as we can without skimming the hull. Nick-03 keep running those scans, and let me know if something starts looking unfriendly."

I hear Nick-03 respond. "Affirmative captain Tarek".

Rina said this was supposed to be a simple job. Find out what was kicking ships out of hyperspace, maybe salvage some parts, and call it a day. But I get the feeling this is just gonna be a repeat of our previous luck. I did say I was born for adventure - now that I got it, maybe I shouldn't have said that.

Jake's P.O.V. :

When we got a bit closer, I held up a hand and told Tarek to hold off on pushing the Stellar Envoy in further. "Let the Nicks check it out first," I said, already keying into the comms to issue orders.

Rina turned in her seat, giving me a questioning look. "What are you planning?"

"Last time we checked out an old station, we made a straight beeline for the first entrance we saw. In hindsight, we got lucky—real lucky," I said, crossing my arms. "What if there had been more surprises? This time, I want a proper sweep of the exterior before we go rushing in."

Rina's expression twisted slightly, like she was having trouble reconciling something. "You realize that kind of caution usually comes from Kado or Mira, right?"

I raised a brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She smirked. "I mean, Davik doesn't count—he's only 'cautious' when it comes to where to aim his blaster."

I huffed out a laugh. "You better hope he doesn't hear you say that."

Meanwhile, Tarek kept an eye on the Nick droids' progress, their maneuvering thrusters flaring as they drifted ahead, scanning every meter of rock and durasteel plating they came across.

Nick-03's voice came through the cockpit speakers. "Captains, Nick-01 and Nick-02 have identified four hangar bays positioned along two distinct axes. Additionally, multiple boarding pods detected. Estimated quantity: between six and twelve, scattered across the exterior."

I turned to Rina, shooting her a smug grin. "See? We wouldn't have known that if we didn't investigate first."

Without missing a beat, Rina kicked me in the shin. "Don't look so pleased with yourself."

She leaned forward, fingers flying across her console as she toggled comms. "Nick droids, can you confirm if there's any visible danger? Is it safe to approach and dock?"

The reply came promptly. "No observable threats. Hangar bay access appears functional. Recommend proceeding with caution."

Tarek glanced my way. "Well? Do we move in?"

I exhaled, drumming my fingers against my arm. "Let's not get complacent just 'cause we haven't spotted anything yet."

Still, I muttered under my breath, half-hoping the others wouldn't hear me. "For once, I'd like a job to be simple—get in, find the cause of the hyperspace anomaly, and get out."

A second later, a warning beep chirped from the sensors.

I should've known better.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

You can visit my patreon page for other content
P A T R E O N . C O M / TofferPlays
(but only if you want to, okay?)

This fanfic is also on:

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Isebas · Apr 4, 2025

Wild guess: Is this the home of Darth Vectivus?

Jktorres.55 · Monday at 9:32 AM

MULTI POV CHAPTER
Jake's P.O.V. :

Thankfully, the warning klaxon was just alerting us to a chunk of drifting debris getting too close to the Stellar Envoy. Still, I slapped a hand over my mouth in mock horror—challenging Murphy's Law out loud in deep space was just asking for trouble. The last thing we needed was another mess like the station that blew itself to bits around us.

I told Tarek and Rina that while the Nick droids were continuing their recon of the docking bays, I'd round up the others to hash out our plan of approach. Hopefully, this was the source of the hyperspace anomaly, and we wouldn't have to waste more time chasing ghosts. Rina decided she'd sit in on the meeting and asked Tarek if he could handle overseeing the droids' progress.

"Got it," Tarek said with a nod, flicking a few switches on the console. "Nick-03's got my back."

"Of course, Captain," Nick-03 chimed in, its vocoder carrying its usual quirk of addressing all of us as Captain—even Anakin. That never got old.

With that settled, we all gathered in the common area. The discussion started with an overview of the docking bays the Nick droids had located and the scattered escape pods. Rina pointed out that they looked more like boarding pods than escape vessels, a theory that made everyone exchange uneasy glances. The implications weren't great. Either someone had boarded this place at some point, but we didn't disregard that something inside might have tried to get out.

That was when Davik, with his usual knack for combat prep, stepped up and led the security planning. We all agreed that someone needed to stay behind to man the turrets just in case. Arlos volunteered, cracking his knuckles before making his way toward the gunner's seat. Shmi would be in charge of the four N5 Sentry droids, deploying them around the ship to act as an extra layer of defense. Tarek would provide tactical support from the cockpit, keeping an eye on the Skew and Nick droids' feed along with Nick-03's assistance.

Anakin tugged on my sleeve and looked up at me with those wide eyes of his. "Can I stay in the cockpit with Tarek?"

I hesitated for a second, but the kid was already on top of things when it came to droids and systems. Plus, he wasn't the type to get in the way. "You have to promise to listen to everything Tarek says. No wandering around or touching stuff without permission."

Anakin gave a quick, serious nod. "I promise. I'll behave."

Satisfied, I gave him a small grin and ruffled his hair before turning my attention back to the planning. With security squared away, we shifted to discussing how we'd handle scouting inside the so-called mining station. Mira took the lead there, detailing potential breach points, search patterns, and fallback plans in case things went south. Knowing our luck? best make the plans expecting it to go south.

Mira asked if I was planning for the Nick droids to stay outside. I shook my head and answered that they were only outside for the initial scouting since their scanners were top-of-the-line and could sniff out things better than most standard sensor suites.

Switching to comms, I ordered the Nick droids to select a hangar bay where we could establish a proper security perimeter. A few seconds later, I got an affirmative ping, and Nick-01 relayed the best location—one with good defensive positioning and easy access to the rest of the station. Satisfied, I turned my attention back to Mira as she continued leading the discussion on our method of approach for scouting and exploring inside the "mining station."

Kado leaned forward, arms crossed, and asked, "Wouldn't splitting up make the scouting go faster?"

Mira gave him a look that screamed, 'I expected better.' "No. Absolutely not. Splitting up in unknown territory, even if it looks safe, is a rookie mistake. You might as well paint a target on your back and invite trouble. We move as a group unless we're sending in expendable assets."

I couldn't help but glance at the Nick droids at that last bit, but I decided to keep my mouth shut. Mira's got a way of making people feel dumb without even trying, and I wasn't about to be the next target.

With no more questions, Mira pressed forward. "The goal is simple: map the layout of the station, determine if it's the cause of the hyperspace anomaly, and make sure we don't trigger something nasty along the way. And honestly? With how suspicious this place is, I'd bet a full stack of credits it's connected."

"I know, right?" I blurted out without thinking, immediately earning a few amused chuckles from the others.

Rina smirked, arms crossed. "Glad to see you're onboard with my theory."

"I wouldn't call it 'your' theory," I shot back, rubbing the back of my head. "Just that it's pretty obvious. Doesn't take a Jedi to see this whole setup is shadier than a Hutt's business dealings."

"Alright, then it's settled," Mira continued, ignoring our banter. "We land, set up a security perimeter, and start mapping out the station. Weapons hot but safeties on. We don't shoot unless there's something worth shooting."

Davik scoffed. "Define 'worth shooting.'"

"Anything that shoots first, moves suspiciously, or gives off an 'I want to kill you' vibe," Mira deadpanned.

"Fair enough," Davik said with a grin, cracking his knuckles. "Just making sure."

With the plan set, we dispersed to don our gear, each of us knowing full well that 'just a scouting mission' is code word for expect a fight bring guns. Now we wait for Tarek to dock.

DROIDS:

Nick-01 processed an internal log update: the jetpacks installed by Creator Jake had significantly improved maneuverability in zero gravity conditions. An optimal enhancement. A logical addition.

"[Nick-01 Statement: The Creator has improved us once again. Our efficiency rating in space-bound operations has increased exponentially.]"

"[Nick-02 Observation: Indeed, Nick-01. These jetpacks would have been most advantageous during our previous engagements. Specifically, during the vault incursion, avoiding meatbag reliance for transport would have increased operational effectiveness by 34.8%.]"

"[Nick-01 Reminder: Focus on present objective, Nick-02. We must select the most optimal docking bay for the Creator's vessel and prevent any meatbag-related inefficiencies.]"

Nick-01 and Nick-02 utilized their upgraded scanners, sweeping the surrounding environment for structural integrity, defensive positioning, and access routes. Multiple hangar bays were identified, but only one offered superior tactical positioning.

"[Nick-02 Assessment: This hangar bay presents the most defensible location with convenient access to interior corridors. Recommending it as primary docking point.]"

"[Nick-01 Agreement: This choice aligns with Creator Jake's preference for minimizing tactical liabilities. Sending transmission now.]"

A priority communication channel was opened.

"[Nick-01 Report: Creator Jake, we have identified the most efficient hangar for meatbag deployment. Coordinates transmitted. Returning to vessel for armament synchronization.]"

Jake comms: "Good work Nick-01, assist Tarek with the docking process

"[Nick-01 Acknowledgment: Proceeding with docking approach. Prepare for potential combat scenarios.]"

"[Nick-02 Sarcasm: Ah, another battle. What a rare and unexpected event for our glorious meatbag companions.]"

As the Stellar Envoy initiated docking maneuvers, Nick-01 and Nick-02 activated their thrusters, aligning themselves as escort units. Their optical sensors registered their fellow combat droids, Skew-01 and Skew-02, still clamped onto the hull. Nick-02 transmitted an internal message.

"[Nick-02 Smug Observation: Ah, ground-bound units. How unfortunate for you to lack propulsion. We will be sure to describe our aerial superiority in great detail later.]"

"[Skew-01 Rebuttal: Irrelevant. Our armor plating is superior, and we carry heavier weaponry. Your fragile exoskeletons would crumple under sustained fire.]"

"[Nick-02 Retort: And yet, we remain mobile in vacuum while you remain attached to a ship like malfunctioning magnetic cargo.]"

"[Skew-01 Conclusion: Both units provide strategic advantages. Ending pointless banter to maintain operational efficiency.]"

The Stellar Envoy completed its final approach, stabilizing within the hangar bay. Nick-01 and Nick-02 disengaged their jetpacks, landing at the bay doors, their optical receptors sweeping for threats. Their primary directive remained clear: protect Creator Jake and his inefficient yet somehow still-functioning meatbag allies.

"[Nick-01 Final Statement: Security perimeter established. Standing by for further inefficiencies.]"

Jake's P.O.V. :

Standing by the bay door as it hissed open, I kept my eyes on the Nick droids, already in a defensive wedge formation in front of the entrance. Their blasters were primed, servos whirring as they adjusted their positions with the precision only droids could manage. A sharp thump echoed through the docking bay, signaling that Skew-01 and Skew-02 had finally disengaged their magnetic clamps from the hull of the Stellar Envoy. The moment they hit the deck plating, they lumbered forward with their heavier, reinforced frames, slotting into position near the Nick droids.

"Perimeter secured," came the crisp binary-coded report from Nick-01.

I gave a sharp nod and signaled Davik and Rina to help me get the droids armed properly. Even though the Nicks had their built-in weapons, it never hurt to be prepared for the worst. The Skew droids, on the other hand, needed their heavier repeaters slotted in, along with their additional shielding packs—no sense sending them in half-prepped. As we worked, I spared a glance at Shmi, who was already sending the four N5 Sentry droids on a sweep of the docking bay.

"Huh," I muttered, watching her direct them with that cool, focused expression. "Looks like Shmi's really leaning into this security officer gig."

"Wouldn't have put her on the job otherwise," Davik commented, adjusting a power cell into place on Skew-02's blaster. "She's got good instincts."

"Yeah, yeah," I waved him off, finishing my adjustments. "Alright, Nick and Skew units, proceed to the access door and sweep the interior. Comms open, call out if you run into anything spicy."

The droids acknowledged in unison and advanced to the sealed blast door leading further into the station. I fully expected them to trigger the sensor panel and march right in, but instead… nothing happened. The doors stayed shut.

I frowned. "Uh… why aren't they—"

"Cannot proceed, Door locked," Nick-01 reported bluntly.

To my left, Rina let out a snicker that immediately put me on edge. When I turned to look at her, she was grinning like a gundark who'd just caught its prey.

"Hah," she drawled, stretching as if savoring the moment. "You thought this was your big dramatic entrance, huh? Kark, you probably had a whole moment planned out in your head. Classic."

I scowled. "I don't see you hurrying to fix the problem, oh wise slicer."

"Oh, I'm savoring it first," she shot back, deliberately sauntering toward the data terminal like she had all the time in the galaxy. She even had the gall to hum a little tune as she pulled out her slicing gear.

I exhaled sharply, crossing my arms. "I hate you sometimes."

"No, you don't," she sing-songed without looking up. A few keystrokes later, the terminal chirped an affirmative tone, and the blast doors hissed open.

"Alright, doors are open," she announced with an exaggerated flourish. "By all means, Mister Dramatic Entrance, carry on."

Ignoring her smug expression, I turned back to the droids. "Orders remain the same—proceed with caution, sweep the interior, and call it in when it's secure."

"Acknowledged, proceeding with mission." Nick-01 responded.

With that, the droids moved forward in synchronized precision, disappearing into the dimly lit corridor beyond. Now, all we had to do was wait—and hope that everyone forgets that embarrassing episode.

After waiting for a little while, my droids gave a report that the next room from the docking bay was clear of danger, with no signs of possible hostile elements, and had been classified as a control station. Since we got an all-clear, we proceeded ahead and entered after them, but I still asked how they determined that the room was a control station specifically.

Funnily enough, I didn't need to wait for their response because the answer was right in front of me—the words "Control Station" were written at the entrance walkway. Thinking deeper about it, why did I even ask such a stupid question? I was probably still annoyed about getting beat by Rina when it came to showing off. Not that I'd ever admit I was trying to show off in the first place.

Rina, upon entering the room after me, was quick to approach a terminal and announced that she'd attempt to slice into the systems to get more information. Mira, who followed right after her, immediately added that Rina should focus on pulling the installation's history logs, the station's map, and the location of the office of whoever was in charge.

Everyone else, including me, just looked around while waiting. Kado had suggested that we wait for the station's map before proceeding with any further scouting, even if we planned on using the droids for most of it. While we waited, I took the opportunity to observe our surroundings.

The control station was an even larger room than the docking bay, with four groups of terminals, each arranged in rows of three. The terminals all faced the docking bay's direction, and along that side of the wall was a massive viewport, which we hadn't noticed from the docking bay itself—probably designed as a one-way mirror.

There were three notable exits: the one we had just used to enter, another doorway on the opposite side that likely connected to a separate docking bay, and a third doorway at the back of the control station. That last one stood out the most, and I had a strong suspicion it was locked—given the very obvious red indicator light glowing at the top.

As Rina worked on slicing into the system, I shifted my stance, resting a hand on my blaster holster while eyeing the doorway at the back of the room. Something about it made me uneasy. I learned enough from our previous escapades and I don't need a Jedi to tell me, but my gut was telling me that whatever was beyond that door wasn't going to be pleasant. I hoped that was just my nerves talking and not a sign of more trouble waiting for us.

"Hey, Jake," Rina called over her shoulder while her fingers danced over the terminal's interface. "Try not to start sweating. You're making the room feel tense."

"I'm not sweating," I shot back, rolling my eyes. "Just thinking of our possible demise with some possible somethings ahead of us."

"Sure you are," she said, her voice dripping with amusement.

Mira sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Can we focus, please?"

We could hear the terminal beeping as Rina worked her slicing magic. Hopefully, she quickly retrieves whatever data we need to proceed without relying on luck again. I wonder if the cause of the hyperspace ejections is a machine - if it is, then it's looting time. Wow, Kado really rubbed off on me - better not tell him.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

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(but only if you want to, okay?)

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Jktorres.55 · Tuesday at 8:15 AM

Jake's P.O.V. :

I heard Kado talking with Davik, remarking about the design pattern they'd observed so far—it had similarities to the space station in the debris field back on Malachor V. Davik sounded skeptical, and for a moment, I was too. But as I listened to their conversation, I also took the time to compare what I saw now to what I remembered from that station. At the same time, I ran comparisons to what I knew about common design trends in recent cycles.

I could see where Kado was coming from—some similarities were there—but I still wasn't convinced. I walked closer to the two, and from Davik's expression, it looked like he wasn't convinced either. Kado, noticing both our skeptical expressions, didn't press his theory further, but he did suggest we keep it in mind as we progressed. Any patterns or design consistencies could give us an idea of what to expect further in. And, of course, anything Rina pulled from the station's data terminals would either prove or debunk his suspicion.

We couldn't really argue with that advice. No matter how skeptical a person is, good advice is good advice. Only the stubborn and the brain-dead ignore good advice, and those kinds of people usually end up in real nasty situations—exactly what we wanted to avoid.

A sudden, disgruntled groan pulled my attention, and I already had a pretty good idea of who it was. The source came from the terminal Rina and Mira had been working at, so I made my way over to check. Just as I suspected, Rina was the one groaning in frustration.

Turns out, the only valuable data she could retrieve from the system was the station's map. There were ship logs too, but she discarded them as irrelevant. Mira, however, wasn't bothered. "It's still good intel," she said. "Now we don't have to blindly move around the station, dreading possible dangers."

Mira tapped into the comms and let everyone know that Rina was transmitting the station's layout. A moment later, my datapad beeped, and I pulled it up to take a look.

My first thought? The layout looked like a structure embedded into a large boulder.

As I studied it, a question popped into my head: how in blazes does this station still have power? I asked it aloud, and thankfully, Mira had the answer ready.

"This station runs on three power generators, which replenish their reserves through solar energy."

That got my brain working again, but it also sent my thoughts spiraling into horror holo scenarios—ironically, one of those scenarios we already lived through back on Malachor V.

Before I could get lost in my own paranoia, Davik's voice cut through my thoughts. He turned to Kado, asking if he had a plan of approach.

Kado's response?

"Mira's the one to follow. This job needs a lot of scouting, and that's her expertise."

Can't argue with that logic.

Mira tapped her wrist console, bringing up the station's map once more. "Alright, we've got two objectives before we can dig into whether this station is the source of the hyperspace ejections—or anomalies, if you prefer the fancy term. First, we need to deal with security. Lucky for us, turret placements are marked on the map, but there's no way to tell if they're active or cold. Second, since we only pulled the station map from the terminal, one of us needs to escort Rina to the station boss's office to try slicing into a more secure system. Meanwhile, the rest of us will need to breach the security office to either add ourselves to the system—so the station marks us as friendlies—or, failing that, we'll have to shut security down altogether."

She let that sit for a moment, and I took another glance at the map. One spot caught my eye—the armory, sitting close to the security office. I had no idea what kind of gear this place might still have, but if there was even a chance of grabbing something useful, I wanted to be there to see it.

"I'll take the security office," I said. "And the armory's right next to it, so I'll give it a once-over too."

Mira nodded. "Good. The Nick and Skew droids will scout paths where we can avoid security turrets. If we manage to disable security later, they'll sweep the rest of the facility."

She turned to Rina. "That leaves you and me heading to the Head Honcho's office."

Kado let out a small chuckle. "Looks like that puts me, Davik, and Jake on turret duty."

I didn't mind. I was actually looking forward to cracking open that armory. Might be something fun in there.

With a final glance at the map, I started giving the droids their marching orders. "Nick-01, Nick-02, your priority is to find paths avoiding turrets. Skew-01, Skew-02, hold perimeter security for now. If we disable security later, you'll get full access to sweep and clear."

A series of affirmatives came through the comms, and with that, we moved out.

We hadn't gone far when my mood took a nosedive.

Bodies. A lot of bodies.

The corridor leading away from the control station was littered with them. Some slumped against walls, others sprawled across the durasteel deck. The stale, recycled air carried the faint scent of charred flesh and old blood, making my stomach tighten.

I forced myself to exhale slowly. I should've expected this. An abandoned station, still running on primary power, with fully mapped-out security placements? That screamed 'something bad happened'—but seeing the aftermath in the flesh? Different story.

Davik crouched beside one of the bodies, running a gloved hand over the armor plating. "Blaster burns. Close range. Some of these look like they were executed."

Kado nudged another corpse with his boot, eyes narrowing. "Not a single weapon left on them."

I grimaced. "That's not a good sign."

"Yeah," Kado muttered. "Either whatever killed them took their weapons, or someone else looted the station before we got here."

Mira's voice crackled through the comms. "Rina and I just found our first body. You seeing the same thing?"

I tapped my earpiece. "Yeah. And none of them have weapons."

Mira let out a quiet curse. "Stay sharp. If someone's still lurking around, I'd rather not walk into a crossfire."

I glanced toward Davik and Kado. "Let's pick up the pace. If the security office still has control over station defenses, we need to reach it before someone else does."

The others nodded, and we pressed forward, stepping over the fallen as we advanced deeper into the station.

I'm just going to ignore the smell, yup - can't smell anything, nope nope nope.

Rina's P.O.V. :

The moment Mira and I split off from the others, we were hit by the stench. Even through my helmet's filters, the scent of decay lingered like a bad motivator about to blow. I could only imagine how bad it was for the others, assuming they even remembered to put their helmets on. Knowing Jake, that di'kut probably forgot. Smart as he is, he can be a real moof-milker sometimes.

Mira signaled a turn, leading us on a longer route to avoid a security turret. I didn't argue; better to take the safe path than get turned into bantha fodder by automated defenses. As we walked, my mind kept circling back to those bodies. They were long dead, practically mummified in some places, but the blaster burns were still visible. It wasn't a battle—no weapons around, no defensive positioning. No, this was a massacre. An execution, maybe. Or just plain murder. Either way, it gave me the kind of chill that even a malfunctioning heating unit on Hoth couldn't match.

Mira raised a hand, another turret ahead. Great. Another detour. And another pile of bodies. This time, something stood out—a protocol droid, slumped against the wall like it had been discarded after its usefulness ran out.

"Think it's got anything useful in its memory banks?" I asked.

Mira gave the area a quick sweep before nodding. "Worth a shot. Just make it quick."

I crouched next to the droid, pulling out my slicing tools to check its systems. A quick inspection made me frown. Its internals were a wreck—scorched wiring, half its droid brain fried to slag. Whatever happened here, someone didn't want this thing talking.

"Yeah, it's toast," I muttered, standing up.

Mira only gave a nod before signaling for us to move forward. We continued down the corridor, stepping over more of the station's former residents until we finally reached our destination—the station boss's office. No surprise, it was system-locked, and by the looks of it, heavily encrypted.

I grinned behind my helmet, cracking my knuckles. "Give me a sec, I'll have it open in no time."

Plugging into the panel, I got to work. The slicing process was smooth at first—basic encryption layers peeling away like flimsi under a vibroblade. But then, just as I was about to crack the final lock, the system threw up an alert. Red flashing letters scrolled across my display: Security Override Engaged.

Kriff.

Mira tensed beside me, hand drifting to her blaster. "Tell me that's not what I think it is."

I sighed, fingers flying across the interface. "If you're thinking we just tripped something nasty, then yeah, it's exactly what you think."

The lock was still breaking down, but whatever security protocol I'd triggered, it wasn't waiting around for me to finish. A new sound filled the air—the unmistakable whirring of servos and the heavy stomp of metal feet.

Droids.

Armed ones.

And they were heading straight for us.

"Uh, Mira?" I said, still working as fast as I could. "Might wanna get ready."

She already had her blaster drawn. "Just hurry up, will you?"

Yeah. No pressure or anything.

The system I was slicing into wasn't anything fancy compared to modern setups, but whoever put it together had a serious obsession with redundancy. It was like dealing with a paranoid slicer who didn't trust their own work—layer upon layer of security loops, not difficult, just annoying as all hells.

And then the alarm tripped. Not station-wide, but localized—just for this office. I glanced at the security feed and spotted the problem: two security droids activating in response.

"Blast," I muttered.

Mira tensed beside me, already adjusting her stance, hand hovering near her blaster. The metallic stomp of approaching droids echoed in the hall, growing louder by the second.

I still had time. The unlocking algorithm was already running, which meant my hands were free for a minute or two. I could shut down the alarm, rewrite the system logs, and trick the droids into thinking it was a false alert. If we engaged them, there was a solid chance we'd trip the entire station's security net—not exactly what we were aiming for.

Mira didn't need convincing. "Hurry it up," she urged, eyes flicking to the door.

I shot her a smirk. "What's there to worry about?"

Mira's expression darkened. She looked at my hands—both off the console, not slicing—then back at me, realization and frustration hitting her at the same time.

I timed it perfectly. Just as she opened her mouth, the lock disengaged with a sharp click, and the door slid open. With a deliberately smug snap of my fingers, I stepped back.

Mira rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath that I was sure wasn't a compliment.

She still had her blaster drawn as she stepped inside. "What about the security droids?" she asked, still wary.

I leaned against the doorway, casually tapping my wrist datapad. "Handled it. Changed the system logs, flagged the alarm as a false alert. They're heading back to their docking stations."

Mira gave me a long look, then exhaled. "Lucky they were only localized to this office," she muttered before scanning the room.

Now that we were inside, I took a moment to absorb our surroundings. The boss' office was about what I expected—well-furnished, clearly designed for someone who liked feeling important. The main desk had an old-school holo-projector, and along the back wall was a personal sonic shower and an adjacent room, probably a private quarters.

I wasn't here for the décor, though. My focus was on the data terminal at the workstation. That's where the real answers would be.

I cracked my knuckles and got to work.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

You can visit my patreon page for other content
P A T R E O N . C O M / TofferPlays
(but only if you want to, okay?)

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Jktorres.55 · Wednesday at 8:35 AM

Jake's P.O.V. :

Rina must be thinking I'd forget my helmet had filters. Good thing she isn't here because I do not want to see that smug expression of hers. Why am I talking about filters, you ask? Well, because the stench of rotting corpses lining the hallways on our way to the security office is beyond words. "Smell" doesn't cut it. Even calling it a stink would be an insult to every bad smell I've ever encountered in my life.

And, yeah. I forgot about my helmet's filters.

Only remembered when I saw Kado and Davik putting theirs on. That was after I got a lungful of corpse-miasma and promptly voided my stomach. So, yeah. Not an experience I want to repeat. And definitely not one I want Rina knowing about.

While I was busy grumbling in my head, we arrived at the security office—if the station map was to be believed. As expected, the doors were locked, and without Rina here to work her usual magic, we had to make do.

Good thing I'm not useless.

I pulled out a modified data spike and jammed it into the door terminal, linking it to my gauntlet. A flick of my fingers activated the slicing program I'd loaded up—one designed to safely bypass the system's security and unlock the door without tripping any alarms.

Turns out we've been spoiled by Rina's speed because after a few seconds, Davik, in true Davik fashion, remarked, "This is taking longer than usual."

I made an exaggerated, elongated groan of displeasure. "Aaugh."

He smirked. "Still waiting."

Before he could get out his third complaint, the terminal let out a sharp beep, and the door slid open.

I was just about to make a crack about not needing Rina at all, but Kado beat me to it. "So, Jake can do what Rina does," he mused, "just slower."

I let out another zombie-like augh to properly express my disapproval.

Davik snorted. "Right. Let's get moving."

Davik signaled that he'd enter first, followed by Kado once he gave the all-clear, and then me. I followed in, already pulling out my second data spike as I approached the main terminal.

With a quick flick of my wrist, I plugged in the spike and activated the full slicing suite on my gauntlet—security bypass protocols, anti-virus sweeps, data retrieval routines, and, most importantly, the ghost identification program. That last one was designed to trick the system into thinking I had the highest access privileges available.

As the programs ran, I glanced over at the others. "This is gonna take a while. Might as well make yourselves useful and see if you can find the armory while we wait."

Davik gave me a nod but threw a glance at Kado. "You stay here with him."

He didn't say he thought my situational awareness was questionable. But I know that he knows that I know that he thinks that.

Not gonna lie, he's not entirely wrong.

I sighed, turning my attention back to the terminal. The code was unfolding across my HUD, and I watched as my programs worked their magic.

At first, the security system put up a fight. Firewalls layered like durasteel plating, forcing my bypass routines to chew through them one by one. The anti-virus detected my spike, but my counterprogram shut it down before it could raise any alarms. A few more seconds, and I was into the mainframe, navigating the command structure like a swoop racer threading through a canyon.

Then came the fun part—convincing the system that I wasn't just a guest.

I activated the ghost identification program. The screen flickered as my slicing suite worked to inject a fabricated command into the system's recognition database. The trick was making it look authentic—if the system detected any inconsistencies, it'd lock me out faster than a Hutt stiffing a bounty hunter.

The screen glitched for a moment. Then another.

I held my breath.

And then—

Access Level: Overseer Granted

The terminal let out a series of confirming beeps, and the display shifted, welcoming me as if I was the head honcho of this place. Rolling my shoulders as if I'd just won a sabaac hand.

I grinned. Oh, Rina, eat your heart out.

With the most punchable smirk I could muster—helmet or not—I turned to Kado and, in the smuggest tone possible, said, "I'm in."

Did I wait for his reaction? Nope. Didn't need to. I was already diving headfirst into the system, fingers dancing across my gauntlet as I worked through the station's security protocols.

First things first—adding our identities to the security database. No need to get shot at by the system's defenses if I could just tell them we belonged here. Simple, efficient, and part of the plan.

Next, I started pulling up logs and inventories. Most of it was standard—weapon stockpiles, droid manifests, patrol routes… but then something really caught my eye.

An experimental project.

Project Name: Stupidly Humongous Interceptor Tank

I blinked.

Then I laughed.

Okay, whoever was running this place had a sense of humor. And judging by the name alone, I already had a very strong hunch about what this was.

"Kado," I called out, still grinning. "You are not gonna believe what I just found."

He tilted his head, waiting.

"Something called the Stupidly Humongous Interceptor Tank—"

Kado let out a soft chuckle. "Stupidly humongous? That's an actual designation?"

I nodded, still scanning the data. "Looks like the guy in charge of this place had a real flair for naming things."

As I continued retrieving logs, Kado gave me an approving nod. "Smart thinking, Jake. You didn't just focus on security; you're pulling everything useful."

And just like that, my face heated up.

I could handle underhanded compliments. I could handle smack talk. But a sincere praise? That hit harder than a Wookiee's backhand.

Kado saw my reaction and immediately let out a good-natured laugh.

Before I could retaliate, Davik returned, his tone all business. "Found the barracks."

I looked up as he stepped inside.

"And?" Kado prompted.

Davik crossed his arms. "Looks like a small war happened in there. Blaster burns everywhere, bodies riddled with shots, and a lot of droid remains."

That got my attention.

"Hang on," I said, "send me a recording."

A moment later, my gauntlet buzzed, and I pulled up Davik's footage. I focused on the droids first—old, bulky designs, built more for intimidation than efficiency. Their shapes tickled something in my memory, but I couldn't quite place them.

"Gimme a sec," I muttered, using the terminal to run an identification scan.

The system took a moment before displaying the result:

Sentinel Droids – Old Republic Era Model

Oh.

I recognized these now. Sentinel Droids. Same kind used during the Jedi Civil War.

"They must've been part of the station's security," I mused, scrolling through the data. But something felt… off. The positioning of the bodies, the damage patterns—this wasn't just some routine security engagement.

I frowned. "Why does it look like these droids fought the station staff?"

Judging by the attire of the corpses, they weren't intruders. They belonged here. But the droids hadn't been protecting them. They'd been attacking them.

Kado gave Davik a nod. "Jake already patched us into the security system, so opening the sealed weapons lockers should be easier."

Davik smirked. "Now that is good news."

While they talked, I glanced at my gauntlet. The data retrieval had finished. I skimmed through the logs, hoping for a more comprehensive history of what happened here.

But no such luck.

Looks like the real logs were in the station boss' office. Figures.

Still, as I scrolled, something made my stomach drop.

Entry Detected: Force Null Sentinel Droids – Status: Locked Down

I stiffened.

The words Force Null were enough to make my brain go into overdrive. But the droid designation? I already knew what this was.

My pulse spiked for half a second before I kept reading—

Status: Disabled
Notes: Subject placed under study due to rogue behavior.

Oh.

Oh, thank kriff.

I'd panicked too early.

The droid was disabled. Being studied. Not active.

I must've made some kind of noise because, next thing I knew, Kado and Davik were right next to me, their postures tense.

"What?" Kado asked.

I let out a breath, rubbing my helmet. "False panic."

Davik raised a brow. "There is no such thing as false panic."

I waved him off. "Closest description I could think of. What happened was—I just read about a droid we fought on Malachor V."

Both of them went dead silent.

I gave it a beat. Wait for it…

Then—

Two sharp gasps.

I grinned to myself. Oh, this is fun.

I kept going, dragging it out a little. "Turns out they were disabled and being examined on this station."

Two simultaneous sighs of relief.

I leaned back. "Huh. That was kinda fun."

Kado just shook his head. "One day, Jake. One day, someone's gonna deck you for doing that."

Davik crossed his arms. "And if it's me, you're not gonna see it coming."

I snorted. "Wouldn't be the first time."

But my mind was still racing.

If those droids were being studied, then whoever was running this station had probably records on findings as to what made them go rogue.

I exhaled, looking at my gauntlet.

"Alright," I muttered, "next stop—the Armory."

I commed the Skew and Nick droids, setting them on scouting duty. Skew-01 and Nick-01 were headed for the Armory, while Skew-02 and Nick-02 made their way toward the Station Head's office.

A series of acknowledged responses followed—affirmatives all around. Good. That'd save us some trouble.

With the droids on task, Kado, Davik, and I moved out.

This time, unlike earlier when we had to creep through the station to avoid security turrets, our path was straight as a blaster bolt. We didn't have to slink around anymore—the system knew we belonged here.

But that didn't mean the walk was pleasant.

Because the corpses?

They were still here.

And these weren't the chaotic sprawled-out bodies we saw before. These ones were lined up, all generally facing the same direction.

Executed.

That was the only word that fit.

I didn't slow down. Not because it didn't bother me—because it did. But I knew this wasn't our puzzle to solve. I'd leave that to Mira and Rina. They had the sharp eyes and sharp minds to dig through the whys and whats of all this.

We?

We had an Armory to check.

And when we got there, I immediately saw what Davik meant when he said a small war had gone down.

My first theory—droids going rogue? Yeah, that was out the airlock.

From the way the Sentinel droids were positioned, they weren't attacking indiscriminately. They were in defensive stances, fighting alongside some of the staff, while others—also in staff uniforms—had been the ones on the offensive.

Not a clear-cut droid rebellion, then.

Because if this had been the usual 'killer droids go haywire' situation, they wouldn't have been backing up any organics.

And the people attacking? Some of them… didn't even have weapons.

Or maybe I was assuming. Maybe their weapons had been taken after the fight. Hard to say without a deeper look.

But that was not my priority right now.

I turned my attention to the lockers. Most of them were already popped open, their contents either emptied or nearly emptied. Some still had weapons sitting inside, forgotten in the chaos.

I wasn't about to just trust that the room was safe, though.

I toggled my armor's scanner and did a quick sweep. No tripwires, no motion sensors, no nasty little surprises waiting to turn us into very messy wall paint.

"Looks clear," I muttered. "Let's check the open lockers first."

We moved in.

The weapons inside were… fine, I guess. Standard issue. Serviceable.

But after everything I'd done to our arsenal? These were bantha fodder in comparison.

Still, parts were parts. We could always use spares.

We moved to the sealed lockers next. I bypassed the locks with ease—at this point, the station's security was more inconvenience than challenge—and we cracked them open one by one.

…More of the same.

Nothing terrible, but nothing impressive, either.

Davik nudged a blaster rifle with his foot. "Well. That's underwhelming."

Kado hummed. "Better than nothing."

Yeah. Barely.

But before we could sort through what was worth keeping, my comms unit beeped.

Skew-01.

The droid's report crackled through my helmet's earpiece, reporting that they were closing in on our position. Good timing.

"Copy that," I said. "Hold position at the entrance when you get here."

I glanced at Kado and Davik. "We'll wait for the droids before we go looking for that Stupidly Humongous Interceptor Tank machine."

Davik snorted. "You have to stop saying that with a straight face."

"Not happening," I said.

Because the name was so unbelievably dumb that it looped back around to amazing.

But dumb name or not, my gut told me this thing was important.

I opened a channel to Mira.

"We're about to go looking for an experimental machine," I told her. "Also gonna be keeping an eye out for anything that might point to the cause of the hyperspace anomaly."

"Understood," Mira responded. "You have a theory?"

"Yeah." I grinned under my helmet. "I'm betting on the experimental machine."

"Because it's experimental?" she asked dryly.

"Nah," I said. "Because it's got a stupid name, a stupid acronym, and it's experimental."

There was a pause.

Then, a resigned, "Copy that."

I chuckled and cut the link.

Alright.

Time to go find the dumbest-named, probably incredibly dangerous machine in this whole kriffing station.

What could possibly go wrong? Ah kriff, my mouth talked before I could stop it.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

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My galactic adventure from far far away

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