I stand before a large iron gate, its surface weathered and scarred, a testament to countless battles fought and lost. The air is dry, filled with the scent of dust and sand, and the sky above is a deep, burnt orange, streaked with clouds that seem to simmer with heat. Beneath my feet, the ground is hard and cracked, every step sending small plumes of red dust into the air.
Beside me, my master stands tall and imposing, his pale cloaks billowing slightly in the warm breeze. From beyond the gate, the roar of a cheering crowd reaches my ears, a cacophony of excitement and anticipation. I grip my dueling staff tightly, nerves prickling at the back of my mind. My master turns to me, his expression calm and reassuring.
"You have done well in your training, my young apprentice," he says, his voice steady and warm. "This is your final combat test, and I have faith in you. Remember all that you have learned."
The gate creaks open with a loud, grating sound, and I step forward, feeling a surge of confidence. As I emerge into the arena, the crowd falls silent. I hear the murmurs and whispers ripple through them, questioning why a child has been sent to fight, doubting my abilities based solely on my age.
I let my eyes drift over the crowd, taking in the faces and forms that fill the seats. Geonosians dominate the stands, their spindly arms twitching with excitement, their strange clicks and buzzing filling the air. But among them, scattered throughout the stone seats, are beings of all kinds. Twi''leks with brightly colored head-tails, Rodians with their large, insect-like eyes, and Trandoshans with their scaly, menacing presence. I catch glimpses of Weequay and Zabrak too, their hardened features barely masking their anticipation.
There are humans here as well, but mixed with them are species I''ve never seen before—hulking creatures with multiple arms, sleek beings with glowing eyes, and masked figures whose origins are impossible to tell. Some wear armor, glinting in the arena''s dusty light, likely bounty hunters or smugglers, their hands never far from their weapons.
The crowd doesn''t sit neatly by race or faction. There''s no order here—just a chaotic blend of beings, each one either sizing me up or too focused on the coming bloodshed to care. Some are whispering to each other, judgment clear in their eyes as they glance my way. Others snicker, a cruel gleam in their expressions, likely betting on how long I''ll last.
In the lofty seats above, the important visitors watch with detached interest. Royals and dignitaries, clad in luxurious robes and armor adorned with crests, sit comfortably, surrounded by their personal guards. The guards, all heavily armored and armed, stand rigid, watching the arena floor while their masters exchange hushed words. There''s an air of superiority up there, their judging eyes casting a heavy weight down upon me. I can feel their gaze, cold and calculating, as if I''m nothing more than a gladiator in their game.
But I shrug it off, focusing on the task at hand. Their whispers, their judgment—it means nothing to me. I''m not here for their amusement, not here to entertain. I''m here to prove something, to show my master that I''m ready. Ready to face my final test. Ready to take my place, no matter who''s watching.
Before me stand three male Kaleesh warriors, their imposing forms casting long shadows on the arena floor. They are tall and muscular, their reptilian features partially obscured by intricately carved bone masks that give them a fierce and otherworldly appearance. Their eyes, visible through narrow slits in their masks, gleam with a mixture of curiosity and disdain.
The first Kaleesh, his mask adorned with crimson markings, looks at me with puzzlement. He shifts his grip on his double-bladed vibro-spear, his posture uncertain. The second Kaleesh, wearing a mask with jagged, menacing lines, begins to laugh, a harsh and grating sound that echoes across the arena. He clutches a pair of long, curved swords, their edges shimmering in the light. The third Kaleesh, the most serious of the trio, wears a mask with intricate gold filigree. He holds a heavy war axe with both hands, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine.
"Why would they send a child?" the first Kaleesh mutters, his voice muffled by his mask.
The second Kaleesh continues to laugh. "They must be mocking us. This is insulting."
The third Kaleesh, however, remains silent, his eyes narrowing as he studies me. "They wouldn''t send out some kid unless he had some serious fighting capabilities," he finally says, his tone thoughtful.
The second Kaleesh scoffs. "You think this child poses a threat to us?"
The first Kaleesh chimes in, shaking his head. "Great warriors that we are, why is this boy our final challenge?"
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. Despite their doubts, I know my master would not have sent me here if he did not believe I was ready. I tighten my grip on the dueling staff, feeling its reassuring weight in my hands. The crowd''s chatter fades into the background as I focus on the three Kaleesh before me, ready to prove myself in this final test.
The Kaleesh are amongst the most skilled warriors in the galaxy. For them, fighting is everything—a test of strength, honor, and skill. I am nervous, but I hide it well, bowing before the Kaleesh and thanking them for accepting my duel.
The two who mocked me earlier scowl, taking my gesture as an insult. Their grip tightens on their weapons, eyes flashing with anger. The third Kaleesh, the serious one, nods slightly and readies his war axe. I glance up at the murmuring crowd, searching for my master. He stands out, arms crossed and casting a serious look at me. "I won''t disappoint you, master," I whisper softly.
A massive horn goes off, its deep, resonant sound signaling the start of the battle. The Kaleesh charge at me with a burst of speed and ferocity, their movements a blur of deadly intent. I focus, letting the Force guide my actions.
At first, the fight seems underwhelming to the crowd. I am not striking back, merely dodging and avoiding their attacks with fluid grace. The Kaleesh who laughed at me grows more agitated with each missed strike. His frustration mounts, and he starts shouting, his anger making him reckless.
I see my opportunity. He lunges at me with a wild swing of his curved swords. I sidestep, using his momentum against him, and sweep his legs out from under him with my staff. As he falls, I bring the staff down, striking the back of his head, causing him to drop one of his swords. With a swift kick, I send the sword skidding across the arena floor.
The crowd gasps, a mix of surprise and anticipation rippling through them. The first Kaleesh, the one who questioned my presence here, lies unconscious before me. The third Kaleesh remains impassive, standing ready with his war axe.
The second Kaleesh, humiliated and enraged, charges at me with renewed fury. His swings are faster, more aggressive, each strike intended to end the fight quickly. I am hard-pressed to dodge and deflect his blows, my heart racing as I struggle to keep up.
But then, I begin to notice a pattern in his movements. He favors his right side, his attacks predictable in their aggression. I adapt, timing my dodges more precisely. As he swings wide, I duck under his arm, pivoting behind him. With a swift jab, I strike the back of his knee, causing him to stumble. I follow up with a spinning kick, knocking him to the ground. Before he can recover, I bring my staff down on his head, knocking him out too.
The crowd erupts in cheers and shouts, their initial skepticism turning to excitement. The two Kaleesh that have mocked me now bested by a mere child. The third Kaleesh, however, hasn''t moved at all. He has been watching me closely, studying my every move.
The tension in the arena is palpable. The third Kaleesh steps forward, his war axe gleaming in the light. The crowd falls silent, all eyes on us. This is the true test, the final challenge.
He charges, his movements calculated and precise. I meet his strikes with my staff, the impact jarring but manageable. His strength is formidable, each swing of his war axe a potential death blow. I focus, using the Force to enhance my reflexes, to guide my movements.
Our duel is a dance of strikes and counters, a blur of motion and sound. The crowd watches in awe, their cheers a distant roar in my ears. I can feel my master''s gaze on me, his presence a steady anchor.
The third Kaleesh is relentless, but so am I. I find an opening, a moment of hesitation in his attack. I parry his blow, twisting my staff to knock his war axe aside. With a swift, fluid motion, I strike his shoulder, then his side, using the momentum to sweep his legs out from under him.
He falls, and I bring my staff to his throat, the tip resting just above his jugular. He looks up at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of respect and acceptance. The crowd erupts into a frenzy, their cheers echoing through the arena.
I step back, lowering my staff and bowing to the fallen Kaleesh. The arena is filled with the sounds of celebration, the crowd screeching and whistling. I glance up at my master, who nods approvingly. I have passed the test.
As I leave the arena, the echoes of the cheering crowd fade behind me. I find my master waiting for me in the dimly lit halls, his pale cloak blending with the shadows. His expression is unreadable, the same calm and stoic demeanor he always wears. There''s no hint of happiness or pride in his features.
"Master," I say, a little breathless from the excitement and exertion. "Are you pleased?"
He simply replies, "You did well."
My heart swells with a sense of accomplishment.
"You are ready," he states.
I blink, caught off guard. "Ready for what?"
"To build your very own lightsaber," he says, his tone firm and measured.
A surge of excitement rushes through me. The moment I have been waiting for, training for, is finally here. I can''t help but feel a broad smile forming on my face, my steps becoming lighter as we walk through the halls. The anticipation is almost overwhelming.
But my master quickly corrects me, his voice a grounding force. "Calm yourself, Ryu. A lightsaber is more than just a weapon. It is an extension of your will, a symbol of your path. Approach this task with the gravity it deserves."
I nod, trying to temper my excitement. "Yes, master."
As we continue walking, the reality of what he said sinks in. This is not just about building a weapon; it''s about forging a part of my identity, solidifying my place on this path he has set me on. The weight of the responsibility sobers me, and I take a deep breath, focusing my thoughts.
?????
Floating in the emptiness of the Outer Rim lies an old space station, drifting silently in the cold, dark expanse of space, its silhouette a familiar beacon for weary travelers. Designed as a fuel depot, the station has a utilitarian yet rugged appearance, a relic from a bygone era where it once was bustling with activity. Its cylindrical body is surrounded by several large, spherical fuel tanks, their metallic surfaces pockmarked by micrometeorite impacts and the passage of time.
Protruding from the central structure are docking arms, each equipped with multiple docking ports to accommodate various sizes of ships. Some of these arms show signs of disrepair, with flickering lights and exposed wiring, but they remain functional enough to serve their purpose. At various points along the station''s exterior, large rusty letters spell out its designation ''Port Talos''.
Although not a military outpost, the station is equipped with defensive measures to deter potential threats in the lawless regions of the Outer Rim. Arrayed around the station are several turbo laser turrets, their barrels dark and menacing. These turrets are controlled by an outdated but still operational defense system, capable of targeting and firing upon hostile ships that venture too close.
Inside, the station''s corridors are narrow and dimly lit, the walls lined with aging conduits and pipes. The air has a metallic tang, a constant reminder of the station''s industrial nature. Despite the wear and tear, the core areas remain operational and relatively clean, maintained by a skeleton crew of droids and a few hardy sentients who call the station home.
Large hangar-like spaces, the fueling bays, lie around the station. They are the station''s lifeblood where ships can dock and refuel. The Crucible is docked in fuel bay seven, where massive hoses and connectors extend from the walls, capable of transferring various types of fuel to accommodate the diverse vessels that stop by. The smell of fuel and lubricant permeates the area, where droids scuttle about, performing routine maintenance and repairs.
At the heart of the station is the control center, a compact room filled with consoles and monitors displaying data from various sensors and systems. A large, reinforced window provides a panoramic view of the stars, as well as incoming and outgoing ships. Here, the station''s overseer, a grizzled old male Besalisk named Varek, keeps watch. Varek is a no-nonsense type, with a deep knowledge of the station''s quirks and a pragmatic approach to dealing with the frequent visitors.
10 days have passed and the Crucible lies motionless within one of the hangars in Port Talos. Varek has agreed to let Ryu and Lyra lay low but in return for Lyra''s services and Ryu''s labor. An uneasy feeling has been bothering Ryu lately, as if he is being watched. Trying to keep it a secret from Ryu, Lyra has been working on a new droid she has procured without his knowledge. In her free time while Ryu was busy, she spent every moment working on it.
Ryu lies in his quarters, his body relaxed under the sheets, though his mind is anything but. Restless dreams had plagued his sleep, leaving him in a cold sweat. Beside him, Lyra stirs, sensing the tension in his form. She leans over and gently places a hand on his arm, her fingers brushing his skin tenderly.
"Are you okay?" she whispers, her voice soft with concern.
Ryu startles awake, breathing heavily as he attempts to shake off the remnants of a vivid nightmare. His chest rises and falls rapidly, the memory of it still fresh in his mind.
"Just another vivid dream," he replies after a moment, rubbing his face with one hand. "I just need a second to calm down."
Lyra snuggles closer, her warmth providing some comfort. "I''ll be here whenever you need me," she says gently, her voice full of care and affection.
Ryu offers her a faint smile, his tension easing slightly. "This one wasn''t so bad," he says, his tone lightening. They''re about to share a tender kiss when the intercom suddenly crackles to life, and IG-22''s voice breaks the quiet.
"Ryu," the droid calls over the intercom. "You are urgently needed."
Ryu sighs, his hand automatically reaching for the intercom panel embedded in the wall by the bed. "What is it, IG-22?" he asks, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.
"I have detected a breach in the ship''s systems," IG-22 states matter-of-factly. "Someone has accessed the ship''s logs."
Immediately, Lyra curses softly under her breath, "Damn droid."
Ryu, hearing her, narrows his eyes. "What was that?" he asks, turning to her with a suspicious look.
Before Lyra can respond, the door hisses open, and IG-22 storms in with its usual lack of subtlety. Lyra shrieks, startled, and instinctively pulls the sheets up to cover herself.
"IG-22!" Ryu shouts, his voice filled with anger. "What have I told you about barging in?"You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Unfazed by Ryu''s outburst, IG-22 responds in its monotonous tone, "I have traced the hack to Miss Lyra''s quarters."
With that, the droid turns on its heel and exits the room, the door hissing shut behind it.
Ryu turns to Lyra, his expression stern as he crosses his arms over his chest. Lyra, still holding the sheets tightly around her, looks away, clearly uncomfortable.
"I may have... purchased a new droid," she mutters, avoiding his gaze.
Ryu''s eyes narrow as he leans closer. "How much did it cost?" he asks, his voice firm, though his patience is wearing thin.
Lyra hesitates for a moment, still looking away before she answers, "Not that much."
"How much, Lyra?" Ryu repeats, his tone growing more insistent.
She finally turns to face him, her voice barely a whisper as she mutters, "10,000 credits."
"Lyra!" Ryu exclaims, more aggravated now. He runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.
Lyra bites her lip, avoiding his gaze as she prepares for the inevitable lecture. But instead of a barrage of words, Ryu lets out a long sigh, rubbing his temples. After a moment, he calms himself. "Show me the droid," he says, his voice resigned.
Lyra, relieved that the worst of his anger has passed, nods quickly. She wraps the sheets around her and stands, motioning for him to follow her. They both get dressed quickly before heading toward her quarters.
?????
As they enter Lyra''s room, she motions to the corner, where a tall object stands covered by a cloth. She hesitates for a moment, glancing back at Ryu before addressing the droid.
"You don''t need to hide," she says softly, her voice coaxing. "He knows."
At her words, the cloth shifts, and a droid emerges from underneath, the fabric falling away to reveal its sleek, polished frame. The droid is an imposing figure, painted a matte gray that gives it a sleek, formidable appearance. It stands taller than a human, with limbs and appendages designed for both combat and precision. The arms are particularly interesting, with thin slits running along their length, hinting at hidden mechanisms and advanced functionality. Its legs are sturdy, built for both agility and stability. The head is smooth, with an angular helmet-like structure and glowing optical sensors.
Ryu crosses his arms, his eyes still locked on the droid standing before them. "This is what you spent 10,000 credits on?" he asks, his tone stern but laced with curiosity.
Lyra, standing beside him, gives a sheepish smile. "He''s more than just a droid, Ryu. He''s my passion project."
"Passion project?" Ryu asks, raising an eyebrow as his gaze moves between her and the droid.
Lyra nods eagerly, practically glowing with excitement. "I found him while walking by Vallus'' stall over at that little market place."
Ryu lets out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "From him? Of all the people, Lyra... Varrus is known for ripping people off."
Lyra holds up her hands in defense. "I know! I know. But trust me, I studied the droid thoroughly before making the purchase," she says, her excitement bubbling up again. "He''ll be an extremely useful asset to our team, I promise. His frame, his capabilities... I modified him, upgraded him even further than he was originally capable of. He''s not just some ordinary droid, Ryu. He''s going to help us in ways you can''t even imagine!"
Ryu glances at her, noting the sheer joy in her eyes. He can''t help but feel the edge of his frustration soften. Lyra''s enthusiasm for this project—her passion—was hard to ignore. Still, he crosses his arms again and lets out a long breath. "Alright, but please, no more purchases behind my back."
Lyra grins and leans into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I promise," she says softly, her eyes shining with excitement.
Ryu can''t help but return her smile, even if he''s still a bit skeptical. As they stand together, his eyes return to the droid standing quietly before them. He may have his doubts, but if there''s one thing he knows, it''s that Lyra''s passion and ingenuity are not to be underestimated.
Lyra''s eyes gleam with pride and excitement. The droid''s head turns slightly as it observes the two of them, its glowing photoreceptors giving off a faint hum. Ryu circles the machine slowly, his brow furrowed as he studies its patchwork appearance. Despite the visible wear and tear, there''s an undeniable sense of power and intelligence emanating from it.
"This," Lyra begins, her voice brimming with enthusiasm, "was once an ST-series military strategic analysis and tactics droid from the Clone Wars era. Few were made. They were known for adapting in combat and using their analysis and tactics skills to overcome any scenario."
Ryu pauses, inspecting the droid''s chassis. Its patchwork repairs are evident—some limbs appear newer, while others bear the marks of heavy wear, yet everything seems to fit together seamlessly. "It looks like it''s been through a lot," he comments, running his hand along the droid''s metallic surface.
Lyra nods eagerly, almost bouncing on her feet. "He was in an unbelievably bad state when I found him. Only the head and chassis were intact. I had to replace almost everything else, but I made sure to keep the memory processor. That was the key. Remember the cargo we were supposed to deliver?" Lyra asks, her eyes shining as she watches his face closely.
Ryu nods slowly, his curiosity piqued. "The one we never actually dropped off?"
She grins, practically radiating excitement. "Yes! That was a shipment of advanced droid chips. I used them on him. There''s an IG-100 chip designed for combating Jedi, a learning software chip, and the processor chip of a protocol droid."
Ryu''s expression shifts, showing a hint of surprise. "Learning software?" he asks, his eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion. "As in..."
But Lyra cuts him off, her excitement bubbling over. "He can learn! I, of course, made my own modifications to the chips, but he learns from observation! Every battle, every interaction—he can adapt and grow more efficient. Just think of how valuable he''ll be!"
Ryu, despite himself, is slightly impressed. He takes a step back and looks at the droid more closely, his skepticism slowly being replaced by a sense of wonder. "So, it''s fully functional?" he asks, still scanning the droid for any signs of malfunction.
Lyra nods enthusiastically, her excitement palpable. "The memory processor retained all of his original programming and tactical data, and the new limbs and chassis are fully compatible with his systems. I''ve already uploaded everything I could find from the ship''s database—star charts, history, manuals, combat protocols. And the best part is... he learns fast."
Ryu crosses his arms, a mixture of disbelief and admiration playing across his features. "That is incredible." He glances back at the droid, its glowing eyes seeming to track his every movement.
Lyra beams, clearly proud of her creation. "Yes. He''s already absorbed all the data I uploaded. He''s not like any other droid you''ve seen before."
Ryu shakes his head slightly, still processing the information. "What''s its designation?"
Lyra''s smile widens as she steps closer to the droid, almost as if she''s introducing a friend. "He picked out his own designation," she says, her voice filled with pride.
Ryu blinks, genuinely surprised. "Droids aren''t capable of that," he points out, his voice edged with doubt.
"This one is," Lyra replies confidently, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Lyra steps closer to the droid, her excitement undiminished. She places a hand on its cold, metallic arm, looking up at its glowing photoreceptors before turning to Ryu with a grin. "Go on," she urges the droid, her voice brimming with encouragement. "Introduce yourself to Ryu."
The droid''s head tilts slightly, its photoreceptors flickering for a moment before it speaks in a calm, nonmonotone voice.
"Greetings. I am Apollo. It is a pleasure to meet you Ryu."
Ryu blinks, surprised by the droid''s chosen name. "Apollo? Why that name?"
Apollo''s optical sensors seem to brighten slightly as it responds. "In my readings, I discovered an ancient civilization that worshipped many deities. One of these deities, called Apollo, was the god of knowledge and learning. Since I seek to learn and gather knowledge as their deity did, I have chosen to adopt that name."
Ryu is taken aback by the droid''s manner of speaking, which was remarkably fluid and human-like. "You don''t talk like a typical droid."
Apollo inclines its head slightly. "I have been programmed with extensive linguistic capabilities, integrating protocol droid software. This allows me to communicate more effectively."
Lyra, clearly delighted with Apollo''s explanation, has a sudden idea. "Ryu, although I''ve uploaded many combat protocols, Apollo hasn''t actually fought anyone before. What if you two sparred?"
Apollo turned its sensors towards Lyra. "Is that a great idea? Given that droids are stronger than humans, I could easily injure or kill Ryu."
Lyra chuckles. "The goal isn''t to harm anyone, Apollo. This spar is merely to see your capabilities in a controlled environment. Think of it as practice, not a real fight. Besides, Ryu is a very skilled fighter. He can handle himself very well."
Ryu, intrigued, nods. "I''m curious about your capabilities too, Apollo. Let''s make some room in the cargo bay."
They make their way to the cargo bay, clearing a sizable space for the sparring session. The room is filled with the hum of the ship''s systems, and the makeshift arena took shape amidst the crates and equipment.
Ryu faces Apollo, his stance relaxed but ready. "Remember, this is just practice. No need to go all out."
Apollo''s sensors scanned the area, taking in the environment. "Understood. I will engage with minimal force."
Ryu and Apollo approach the empty space. Ryu moves into a fighting stance and Apollo mimics him, raising its hands and forming them into fists. Ryu begins with light, probing jabs, testing Apollo''s initial responses. Apollo''s movements are droid like but precise, deflecting the jabs with minimal effort. Ryu notices the droid''s technique is solid, but lacks fluidity.
"Let''s see what you can do," Ryu mutters, delivering a swift combination of punches and kicks. Apollo blocks and dodges with increasing efficiency, but Ryu''s experience shows as he easily finds gaps in the droid''s defense, landing several light blows. Lyra meanwhile watches in excitement and has begun recording the sparring with the help of their dwarf probe droid.
As the sparring continues, Apollo''s movements start to change. The droid''s sensors and algorithms analyze Ryu''s patterns, and its response become more sophisticated. It starts to mimic Ryu''s style, integrating more fluid movements into its own technique. Ryu notices the shift and increases the intensity of his attacks, throwing more complex combinations and employing feints.
Apollo adapts quickly, its blocking and counterattacks becoming sharper. It anticipates Ryu''s feints and responds with counterattacks that are increasingly difficult to avoid. Ryu, now fully engaged, recognizes the droid''s learning capability and realizes he must step up his game.
Ryu switches to a more unpredictable style, blending various fighting techniques to throw the droid off balance. He uses rapid changes in pace and direction, employing a mix of high and low strikes, spinning kicks, and sudden grapples. Apollo momentarily struggles, but adjusts with impressive speed, learning from each new technique.
The fight escalates into a blur of motion, each opponent testing the other''s limits. Ryu feels the adrenaline surge as he blocks a high kick from Apollo and counters with an elbow strike that the droid barely evades. The droid''s learning algorithm kicks into overdrive, and it begins to predict Ryu''s movements with startling accuracy.
Ryu, realizing he''s now facing a truly formidable opponent, digs deep into his well of experience. He uses his knowledge of combat to create deceptive patterns, baiting Apollo into making mistakes. He throws a feint with his left hand, prompting the droid to overcommit to a block. Seizing the opportunity, Ryu lands a powerful roundhouse kick to the droid''s chassis, sending it stumbling backwards.
However, Apollo recovers quickly and adapts its stance, now incorporating defensive measures specifically against Ryu''s favored techniques. The droid''s punches become faster and its defenses almost impenetrable. Ryu grits his teeth, sweat dripping down his face, as he matches the droid blow for blow.
The fight reaches its climax with both combatants moving at blinding speed, a symphony of fists and feet striking and blocking with precision. Finally, Ryu spots a subtle glitch in the droid''s adaption; a slight delay in its reaction to simultaneous high and low attacks. With a burst of energy, he executes a high kick followed immediately by a sweeping kick. Apollo blocks the high kick but is caught off guard by the sweep, losing its balance and falling off the mat.
Ryu steps back, breathing heavily but composed while Lyra starts clapping ecstatically.
"That was incredible. Well done, Ryu. You too Apollo," She says as she heads over to Apollo and Ryu. Ryu extends a hand to Apollo. Apollo, recognizing the gesture, takes the offered hand and stands up. The droid''s sensors flash in acknowledgement of the defeat, yet also in respect for Ryu''s skill and adaptability.
"You did very well Apollo," Ryu says, patting the droid on the shoulder and accepting the water pouch from Lyra as she hands it to him.
"You think so Ryu? But I lost," Apollo says, an unmistakable sound of disappointment in its tone.
"Don''t be so disappointed. It was a very tough fight. You adapted quickly and I''m extremely impressed by your capabilities. You now possess a broader repertoire of fighting techniques and you stand ready for future challenges. I may stand victorious but it was a remarkably close victory. I have gained some valuable insights and I hope you do too. I believe if we were to spar again, you''d win for sure."
The droid nods approvingly.
Ryu turns to Lyra with a warm smile. "You did an amazing job with Apollo, Lyra. Really, this is incredible."
Lyra blushes deeply, turning away from him to hide her flustered expression. Although Ryu had praised her before, this time it feels far more genuine, and it makes her heart flutter. Noticing her reaction, Ryu gently asks, "What else can Apollo do?"
Collecting herself, Lyra clears her throat. "Apollo is equipped with a range of weapons and tools. For example, he has retractable vibroblades in both arms," she says. Apollo demonstrates, sliding out two sleek, humming blades from slits in its forearms. "He also has a compact blaster built into his left arm," she continues, and Apollo extends a small but formidable blaster from its left forearm.
Ryu whistles in amazement. "That''s impressive."
"There''s more," Lyra said, her confidence returning. "Apollo also is equipped with a small energy shield projector in his left forearm for defense." Apollo activates the shield momentarily, a translucent disc appearing around its arm.
Ryu nods appreciatively. "You really thought of everything."
Lyra beams at the compliment. "He''s also got a miniaturized fusion cutter for repairs or precise cutting tasks," she adds, and Apollo displays a small, focused beam from a compartment in his right wrist.
"And let''s not forget his agility and speed," Lyra continues. "Apollo''s chassis has been dipped in a special alloy. It''s not beskar, but it offers significant protection against blaster fire."
Apollo''s torso shifts slightly, showing the durable, matte finish of the alloy. "The alloy is called Durachrome. It''s incredibly tough and provides excellent protection without adding too much weight," Lyra explains.
"He''s also very agile and fast, capable of complex maneuvers," Lyra says, as Apollo moves fluidly back and forth across Lyra''s room, demonstrating quick, precise movements that show off its impressive maneuverability.
Ryu nods, clearly impressed. "Apollo, you really are something special."
Apollo''s sensors flicker as it responded, "Thank you, Ryu."
Lyra smiles, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment. "I believe Apollo will be a great asset to us, Ryu."
Ryu places a hand on Lyra''s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You did a fantastic job, Lyra. With Apollo on our team, I feel a lot more confident about our future missions."
Lyra turns to him, her eyes shining with gratitude. "Thanks, Ryu. That means a lot."
Ryu''s communicator buzzes, breaking the moment of reflection. He glances at the screen to see Varek''s name flashing.
"August, can you meet me at the station''s cantina?" Varek''s voice crackles through the device.
Ryu nods, even though Varek couldn''t see him. "Sure, I can be there."
Lyra perks up. "Can I join you? I could use a meal."
Ryu smiles at her. "Of course, Lyra."
Apollo, standing at attention, speaks up. "Would you like me to accompany you for additional security?"
Lyra quickly shakes her head. "No, Apollo. You''d draw too much attention. It''s best if you stay on the Crucible."
Apollo''s optical sensors dim slightly, showing clear disappointment. "Understood. I will stay on the ship."
Noticing the droid''s reaction, Lyra walks over and places a reassuring hand on Apollo''s arm. "We''ll be back soon, I promise."
Apollo''s sensors flicker in acknowledgment. "Very well. I will await your return."
With that, Ryu and Lyra make their way off the Crucible and head towards the station''s cantina. The corridors of the station are bustling with activity, a mix of various species going about their business. The atmosphere is lively, but Ryu keeps his senses alert, always aware of potential threats.
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The small, dingy cantina serves as a social hub for travelers and the station''s crew. The lighting is low, casting long shadows over the mismatched furniture. The cantina is staffed by several service droids and a protocol droid behind the counter who serve up strong drinks and warm meals. The walls are adorned with faded posters and mementos left by past visitors, creating a sense of history and shared experience among those who pass by.
As they approach the cantina, the sounds of laughter, chatter, music, and clinking glasses grew louder. They enter the cantina, scanning the room for Varek. The dim lighting and smoky air add to the cantina''s rugged charm.
In the dimly lit cantina, Varek sits in his booth with his four muscular arms resting casually on the table. The male Besalisk is a hulking figure, with a wide, flat face, deep-set eyes, and a toothy grin that was both welcoming and intimidating. He is enjoying a rather musky smelling beverage and puffing on a smoke, the tendrils of smoke curling around his head like a misty halo.
When he sees Ryu and Lyra enter, he waves them over with one of his thick arms. Ryu leads Lyra to the booth, where they take their seats—Ryu across from Varek, and Lyra besides Ryu. A service droid rolled up to take their orders, and Lyra quickly requested something to eat.
"I''ll have a nerf steak with a side of roasted nuna legs," she says, her stomach grumbling.
Varek''s demeanor shifts as the droid rolls away, his jovial expression replaced by a more serious look. He leans forward, placing a bounty puck on the table. The device flickers to life, displaying a holographic image of Ryu''s face as the droid returns with Lyra''s order.
"You need to leave," Varek says, his voice low. "I got this from a bounty hunter that''s been snooping around my station. If he knows you''re here, so do many others."
Ryu''s eyes narrow as he looked at the puck, uncertainty gnawing at him. "How do I know you''re not playing me, Varek?"
The Besalisk lets out a gruff chuckle. "If I were gonna betray you, August, I''d have done it by now."
Suddenly, an alarm blares, cutting through the tense atmosphere. Varek, Ryu, Lyra, and everyone else in the cantina all jolt at the sound. Lyra, who had just started eating her meal, drops her fork in surprise. The station shakes violently, plunging into darkness before the emergency lights flicker on.
Varek quickly activates his wrist computer, projecting a hologram of an imposing Interdictor-class Star Destroyer near the station. Many TIE-Reaper class dropships and TIE-Interceptors can be seen leaving the Star Destroy and heading for the space station. Ryu''s eyes widened in recognition, and Lyra''s face grows pale.
"The Empire has found you," Varek states, his voice oddly calm. "The station''s defenses are down at the moment, and we''ll boarded soon. If you want to escape, you need to do so now."
Ryu''s mind races as he processes the information. The Interdictor class Star Destroyer is known for its ability to pull ships out of hyperspace and trap them. Escape would be difficult, but staying was not an option.
"Lyra, we need to get back to the Crucible," Ryu says, urgency in his voice.
Lyra nods, her earlier excitement replaced by a grim determination. "What about you, Varek?"
The hologram displayed from his wrist switches to an overview of the station. Multiple red targets appear on the station that suddenly begin turning green one by one. A smile forms across his face. The stations defenses came back online.
"I will buy you some time. Now hurry!" He shouts before running out of the cantina.
Alarms blared incessantly as Ryu and Lyra sprinted through the station, heading towards the Crucible. The station is in chaos. People were running in every direction, their faces masks of panic and fear. Vendors abandoned their stalls, merchandise scattered across the floors, while families and travelers hurriedly packed their belongings. Security droids tried to maintain order but were quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of fleeing individuals.