<blockquote>


    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.


    </blockquote>


    <hr>


    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.


    <hr>


    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?!”


    Stolen story; please report.


    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.


    <hr>


    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.


    <hr>


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