> Disclaimer: Star Wars and all of it's Intellectual Properties is owned by George Lucas and Walt Disney, This fictional work and all of it's original characters are however mine.
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Jake stood in front of the YT-1300, his gaze sweeping over the stripped-down freighter, assessing it with a mix of excitement and determination. Beside him, Kado, Davik, and Mira looked over the ship and the collection of parts they’d amassed for the repairs and upgrades. The hulking frame of the YT-1300 seemed more like a skeleton than a ship, but in Jake’s eyes, it held boundless potential.
Behind them stood the Quids, tools in hand, ready for action. The nimble droids shifted slightly, eager to get to work, while the two stockier models held welding torches, prepared for the heavy lifting. The droids added a sense of professionalism to the operation, as if they were a real crew on the verge of launching their own venture.
Kado cleared his throat, calling everyone’s attention. “Alright, before we dive into repairs, let’s talk about the plan for when this beauty is finished,” he said. “This ship is our ticket to Malachor V, but that’s a dangerous haul. We need to go in with a full plan and the right people.”
Davik crossed his arms and nodded. “We’re gonna need a pilot. Someone who can handle a freighter like this under pressure.”
Mira interjected, her tone skeptical. “A pilot we can trust, Davik. We don’t want someone who’ll cut and run or sell us out the first chance they get. Good pilots who won’t stab us in the back aren’t exactly common.”
Kado chuckled. “Jake was a rare find in that sense.” He shot Jake a look of genuine appreciation. “We’re lucky to have him on board.”
Jake felt a strange warmth rise to his face. The mix of appreciation and sudden self-consciousness left him wondering why he was even embarrassed. A fleeting question crossed his mind: Why am I blushing? He pushed the thought away, focusing on the YT-1300 instead.
Davik shrugged. “I might know someone who’d fit the bill,” he said, glancing at the others. “Before I met Kado, I worked as hired security for a merchant. Turned out the merchant was a spice dealer—a detail I wasn’t aware of at the time. When I tried to back out, he…well, he wasn’t too happy about it. He feared I’d report him to the Republic, so he decided I was better off dead.”
Mira gave a low whistle. “Typical of spice dealers. How’d you get out?”
“Lucky for me, I’d befriended the pilot of our cargo hauler,” Davik said with a slight grin. “I overheard the dealer’s plan by chance, and the pilot and I managed to escape together. It wasn’t easy—a firefight broke out with the dealer’s guards. The pilot took a hit to the leg, but we got to a dropship, which was more like a coffin with engines strapped on. We crash-landed on Tatooine. From there, we went our separate ways.”
Jake frowned, trying to make sense of the story. “Why’d you two split up?”
Davik raised an eyebrow, noticing Jake’s confusion. “He met someone here. Fell in love with a local and decided to settle down. Started a new life as a moisture farmer.”
Jake blinked. That’s it? He hadn’t expected such a simple explanation but kept his thoughts to himself, though Davik saw the puzzled look on his face and gave a small smirk.
“Yes, Jake,” Davik said dryly, “he didn’t leave because he got bored. He left because he found something worth staying for.”
Kado nodded thoughtfully. “Think you can contact him, Davik? See if he’s still got a pilot’s license and an itch for adventure?”
“I’ll try,” Davik replied. “No promises, but he might be interested.”
Mira chimed in. “I know someone who might be useful too—good at sneaking in and out of tricky situations. She’s one of my longest-standing contacts. We’ve worked together for years, and she’s as dependable as they come. If we’re going into Malachor, we’ll need her skillset.”
Kado nodded, already making a mental list of the crew they’d need. “Alright, then. Let’s get this ship spaceworthy, and when we’re ready, we’ll have the team to make Malachor work.” He clapped his hands, signaling the end of the meeting. “Let’s get to work, folks. Every bolt and wire gets us closer to Malachor.”
With renewed focus, the crew broke apart, each of them eager to see their plan take shape. For the first time in a long while, they had direction and purpose—and the long, winding road to Malachor was starting to feel within reach.
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As Davik made his way across the arid Tatooine landscape, he rode his speeder toward a distant farmstead nestled in the dunes. The farmhouse, simple and well-kept, sat between two sturdy vaporators, their hum breaking the silence of the desert. Outside, a man waited with his wife by his side, both smiling as Davik approached and dismounted the speeder.
Davik grinned and walked up to greet the man. “Kal, how’ve you been, my friend?” he said, then turned to Kal's wife with a respectful nod. “And hello to you as well, Laena.”
Kal gave a chuckle and clapped Davik on the shoulder. “Better than I’ve ever been, Davik. But you… you’re a trouble magnet. So, what are you wrapped up in this time?”
Davik chuckled, a bit sheepish. “Well, I need a pilot.”
Kal let out a long, familiar sigh. “Figures. But I’m afraid my days of galactic adventure are behind me.” He glanced over at Laena, who gave him an encouraging smile. “But I know someone who might want to take that job,” he continued.
Davik raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And who might that be?”
This time, Laena answered. “My brother. Ever since he found out that Kal used to be a pilot, he’s been insistent on learning. Kal’s been teaching him everything he can.”
Davik crossed his arms, curious. “So, how’s he been training? You have a ship hidden away here or something?”
Kal laughed, shaking his head. “Not exactly. Jawas sold me a holo-module—no questions asked on where they got it. It’s given him a lot of virtual practice, at least.”
Davik frowned slightly. “Virtual practice isn’t quite the same as being out there in space.”
Kal held up a hand. “Trust me, Davik, he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Quick to learn and meticulous, like a genius, even.” Kal grinned, but Davik couldn’t help but think he might be a bit biased. After all, who could be a “genius” at flying without actually flying?
“All right,” Davik said at last, willing to give it a shot. “Where can I find your brother-in-law?”
Kal nodded toward the distant lights of a nearby cantina. “He’s probably there right now. He’s been talking nonstop about wanting to see the galaxy, and this might be his best shot.”
Davik gave a nod, grateful. “I’ll give him a try, Kal. Thanks. If he’s anything like you say, he might just be the right person for this.”
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Davik parked his speeder outside the cantina, its rough exterior blending right in with the dusty streets and ramshackle buildings. He secured it and made his way inside, eyes quickly scanning the room. The cantina was two-thirds full, a typical scene of hired guns and dock workers nursing drinks or catching up after a long day. Despite the hum of conversation and clinking glasses, Davik quickly found Laena’s brother—a familiar family resemblance made him easy to pick out.
As Davik approached, he saw the young man was in a bad situation: two Rodians were looming over him, one holding him by the collar. Davik edged closer, his movements cautious yet purposeful, ready to intervene. Just as he drew near, he made his presence known.
One of the Rodians—a lanky, green-skinned thug with a jagged scar down his cheek—turned toward him with a sneer. “Walk away, friend,” he hissed. “This isn’t your business.”
Davik’s expression didn’t waver. “Actually, it is,” he replied smoothly.
The Rodian released his grip on Laena’s brother and strode up to Davik, eyes narrowing. “Your friend here’s got a big mouth. We were just teaching him some manners.”
Before Davik could respond, Laena’s brother cut in, “They’re lying! I was just asking them about life outside Tatooine.”
The second Rodian, still clutching the young man by the collar, snapped, “Shut up! You’re diggin’ for info on us, aren’t you? Probably a rival gang rat.”
Davik let out a slight chuckle, raising an eyebrow. “Which is it, then? Mouthing off or spying for a rival gang?”
The scarred Rodian’s eyes flared with anger. Without warning, he yanked a blaster from his holster, leveling it straight at Davik. But the distraction worked in their favor—Laena’s brother took the moment to shove the other Rodian backward and landed a punch square on his snout.
The blaster-wielding Rodian’s attention wavered for just a split second, and it was all Davik needed. He grabbed the Rodian’s arm, twisting it until the blaster clattered to the floor, then followed with a swift movement of his own, drawing his own blaster in a fluid motion. Before the two Rodians could react, Davik fired, taking them both down in quick succession.
Silence fell over the cantina, every eye on him. Davik glanced around, unperturbed, then tossed a handful of credits to the barman. “Apologies for the mess,” he said casually, his voice carrying through the quiet. “Drinks are on me.”
A murmur of approval rippled through the patrons as they settled back to their business, the tension diffusing as quickly as it had come. Davik turned back to Laena’s brother, who was looking at him with a mix of awe and bewilderment.
“Come on, kid,” Davik said, nodding toward the exit. “Let’s get out of here.”
Once they were outside, Davik shot him a sidelong glance. “So, what’s your name?”
Laena’s brother looked him up and down, still processing everything. “Name’s Tarek. And who the heck are you?”
Davik smirked. “Davik. I’m an old friend of your sister and her husband.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “They mentioned you’re looking to get off this rock and see a bit of the galaxy.”
Tarek’s expression brightened with interest. “I… yeah. I mean, I’ve been training, but I haven’t exactly had a chance to try it out.”
Davik chuckled. “Well, you’re in luck. We need a pilot. Not just any pilot, mind you—someone with guts, and someone willing to learn fast.”
Tarek looked thoughtful, glancing back at the cantina and then down at the dusty streets around them. “I’m in,” he said finally, the fire of excitement flickering in his eyes. “When do we start?”
“Soon,” Davik replied. “You’ll get a chance to prove yourself soon enough. Let’s get you up to speed on the plan.”
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