> 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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The crew of the Stellar Envoy huddled in the common area, their expressions reflecting both exhaustion and relief after the tense escape from the chaos above Malachor V. The ship sat in the valley among ancient wrecks, its systems powered down to minimize detection. Despite the oppressive silence of their hiding place, the crew was focused on taking stock of their situation.
Jake leaned over the mobile tool station, running his hands over its surprisingly smooth surface as he took inventory of its functionality. "Well," he said, glancing at Mira, who stood nearby, "if this thing does half of what I think it can, it'll save us a ton of time on repairs and maybe even let me tinker with some upgrades."
Mira nodded, her arms crossed. "Let's hope it doesn't need too much tinkering itself. We’re in no position to deal with more surprises."
Across the room, Shmi inspected Anakin’s scraped knee from where he had stumbled during the earlier turbulence. “It’s nothing serious,” she assured the boy, her voice calm and soothing. “A bit of bacta gel, and you’ll be running around again in no time.”
Rina reclined on a nearby seat, absently adjusting her satchel’s strap. “We’ve got the key, the location of the vault, and a new toy for Jake to obsess over. Not bad for a death-defying adventure.”
Davik snorted from where he sat, checking a small bruise on his arm. “Yeah, not bad—if we don’t count the fact we’re hiding on a cursed planet while half the galaxy’s shooting at each other above us.”
Kado ignored the banter, focused on the ancient droid resting on the floor. "Any idea what this thing is, Jake?" he asked, tapping the droid’s inert form with his boot.
Jake straightened, wiping his hands on his trousers. “Not yet. I’d need some time to hook it up to a diagnostic tool. It’s definitely Old Republic tech, though. Maybe even older.”
"Older?" Mira asked, raising an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"
Jake shrugged. "The design. It doesn’t match any Old Republic-era blueprints I’ve seen, not even prototypes. Could be from the Infinite Empire or some other forgotten civilization. Either way, it’s worth figuring out. Who knows what it’s capable of?"
“Let’s just hope it doesn’t decide to kill us in our sleep,” Davik muttered, earning a laugh from Rina.
Tarek, having finished a quick systems check with Nick-03’s help, joined the group. “Shields are at forty-five percent and rising, engines are holding up, and we didn’t take any critical damage. I’ll handle patching up some of the smaller systems once we’re clear of danger.”
Shmi smiled at him. “I’ll help. I’ve done my share of patchwork fixes before.”
“Appreciated,” Tarek said with a small nod. “We’ll need all hands if we’re going to keep this ship running.”
Kado cleared his throat, drawing the group’s attention. “We’re in decent shape for now, but let’s not get comfortable. We have the location of the vault—the Ashen Wastes—but we don’t know what’s waiting for us there. Supplies look good, but I don’t want us burning through them too quickly. And everyone needs to be ready in case we’re discovered.”
The crew nodded in agreement. As the tension eased slightly, Jake cracked a grin. “Hey, at least we’re still alive. I’d call that a win.”
“For now,” Mira added dryly, though her tone lacked its usual edge.
The crew settled in for the wait, each member silently preparing for what lay ahead.
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The flashes of turbolaser fire in Malachor V’s ominous sky gradually waned after another forty minutes of intermittent chaos. By the third day, only sporadic flashes lit the heavens, but the crew decided to err on the side of caution, refraining from venturing beyond their hidden valley. It wasn’t until the fifth day that Kado greenlit a scouting mission, eager to ensure the way forward was clear.
During that downtime, the Stellar Envoy’s crew busied themselves with preparations and upkeep. Jake threw himself into work, immersing himself in the intricacies of the mobile tool station. He quickly adapted to its advanced interface, discovering a range of capabilities that far exceeded his expectations. Within hours, the machine had become an indispensable part of his workflow. Its ability to fabricate precision parts on the spot proved invaluable as Jake began repairs on Skew-01, which had been waiting for new components since the mission’s outset.
When not working on Skew-01, Jake focused on the ancient droid. Sitting cross-legged on the cargo bay floor, he dismantled and cataloged its internal systems, careful to avoid damaging its already fragile frame. “This thing’s a relic,” he muttered to himself, holding up a cracked component to the light. “We’re talking early Old Republic. Probably older than any archives Gardulla’s goons even know about.” He paused to jot down notes.
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Much of the droid’s critical systems were missing outright, either scavenged long ago or deteriorated beyond use. Jake worked methodically, identifying replacement parts he could fabricate using the mobile tool station. Some components, however, required materials he didn’t have on hand.
He leaned back with a sigh, addressing the inert droid. “You’re one temperamental piece of history, aren’t you? I’ll get you running, though. Just give me time.”
When Jake wasn’t tinkering, Davik took charge of training sessions in the valley outside. Tarek, Shmi, and Arlos rotated through lessons in blaster handling, marksmanship, and basic maintenance.
“Steady hands, Tarek,” Davik said, standing behind the pilot as Tarek aimed at a makeshift target fashioned from scavenged wreckage. “And remember: it’s not just about pulling the trigger; it’s about understanding the weapon.”
Tarek nodded, his expression focused. He squeezed off a shot, and the blaster bolt hit near the center of the target. “Not bad,” Davik admitted. “But not great either. Keep at it.”
Shmi proved to be a quick learner, her mechanical background translating surprisingly well to weapon maintenance. “Blasters aren’t so different from droids,” she said during one lesson, expertly disassembling and reassembling her assigned weapon. “Just fewer moving parts.”
Arlos, ever the diligent soldier, absorbed every lesson with a seriousness that sometimes drew amused commentary from Davik including lessons from how soldiers act in holovids. “You don’t have to salute the target, Arlos,” he teased after Arlos took an almost military stance before firing.
While the training continued, Mira and Rina worked side-by-side in the common area, poring over data extracted from the station. The files were dense, containing fragments of star charts, outdated military protocols, and cryptic references to other vaults. Mira cross-referenced everything they found, while Rina organized the information into usable formats.
“Looks like this whole network of vaults was part of a coordinated Old Republic operation,” Rina said, scrolling through a screen of text. “But the records are incomplete. Either they were deleted, or they’re stored somewhere we don’t have access to.”
“Could be both,” Mira replied. “The more I read, the more it feels like this was a black ops project. Makes sense, considering how hard it was to find the station.”
The droids—Nick-01, Nick-02, Nick-03, and Skew-02—cycled through Jake’s maintenance schedule. Each received updates, recalibrations, and minor improvements using parts crafted by the mobile tool station. Nick-03, in particular, gained additional software upgrades to streamline its navigational and sensor analysis.
By the time the fifth day arrived, the crew had fallen into a rhythm of preparation and collaboration. The looming threat of discovery hung over them, but the downtime proved invaluable. They were stronger, better equipped, and more informed than they had been since arriving on Malachor V.
Now, they just needed to survive the next step.
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The Stellar Envoy hummed with quiet activity as the crew prepared for the next phase of their journey—finding the elusive vault hidden somewhere in the ashen wastes. The oppressive gray landscape stretched endlessly on their monitors, making the task seem as daunting as ever.
Jake, perched on a stool in the common area with a cluster of monitors spread before him, gave the first scout droid a final systems check. “You’re good to go, buddy,” he muttered, patting the small, crab-like machine affectionately. Its circular central body emitted a chirp as its legs flexed experimentally.
Rina leaned on the edge of the console, arms crossed, her gaze sharp. “Are you sure these things won’t fall apart halfway out there? You’ve called them ‘crudely built’ at least twice.”
Jake smirked, his tone playful. “Hey, they were crudely built back on Tatooine. Now they’re upgraded. They’ve got better legs, better eyes, and better brains—courtesy of our shiny new tool station. They’re practically droid royalty now.”
Mira, seated beside Rina, quirked an eyebrow. “Let’s just hope they’re royal enough to survive out there. We can’t afford any of them getting stuck or fried.”
Jake waved a hand dismissively. “Relax, Mira. They’ve got the range and durability now. They’ll handle the heat—or, uh, ash, I guess.”
As Jake set the second and third droids onto the floor, they activated in sequence, their movements smooth and synchronized. He opened a comm channel to everyone on the ship. “Okay, droids are ready. Sending them out now. Spacing them about two klicks apart to maximize coverage. Keep an eye on your displays, folks.”
The droids scuttled toward the valley’s edge and into the endless expanse of the ashen wastes. Mira and Rina settled into their seats, pulling up the feed from the droids’ sensors on their consoles. Rina’s fingers danced over the keys as she set up the scan parameters. “Alright, I’m tagging geothermal activity, metallic signatures, and anything that looks like Old Republic architecture.”
“Don’t forget potential traps or obstructions,” Mira added, zooming in on one of the feeds.
“Got it,” Rina replied. “Jake, did you calibrate for environmental interference?”
Jake scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “Please. I’m a professional. Environmental interference is calibrated, dampened, and sent packing. Just sit back and let the little guys do their thing.”
Meanwhile, in the cockpit, Tarek ran a final systems check on the Stellar Envoy. His voice came through the comms, calm and steady. “All systems nominal. Shields charged, engines primed. Ready for immediate takeoff if we need it.”
“Good,” Kado replied from the cargo bay. “Let’s not get caught with our pants down if someone decides to come knocking. Arlos, how’s the perimeter look?”
Arlos’s reply was crisp, tinged with his usual formality. “Perimeter remains secure, sir. Passive sensors are active, and I’ve conducted a visual sweep. No signs of movement beyond the scout droids.”
Davik joined in, his tone more relaxed. “If something does show up, I’ll make sure they regret it. The turrets are fully prepped.”
Back at the monitors, Rina let out a thoughtful hum. “Okay, first droid’s reaching the outer edge of the target zone. It’s picking up traces of metal in the ground—not natural deposits.”
“Old Republic tech?” Mira asked, leaning in closer.
“Could be. Or it could be a whole lot of nothing,” Rina replied. “Let’s wait for more data before we get too excited.”
Jake glanced at the monitors, a grin tugging at his lips. “You’re saying we shouldn’t pop the Twi'lek champagne just yet?”
Rina shot him a look. “Twi'lek champagne? Really?”
Jake chuckled. “What? It’s classy. And no, we’re not popping anything until we’re sure we’ve found something worth celebrating.”
The crew settled into their respective tasks, a mix of tension and anticipation filling the air as the scout droids pushed further into the wastes. For now, they could only watch, wait, and hope that their search would lead them to the vault—and not to more trouble.
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