Chapter 49: Weight of the Wastes

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’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.

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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.

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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.