Chapter 48: Machines of War *Re-Write*

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.

THIS CHAPTER IS UNDERGOING 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.