I find myself in a dark void, the emptiness pressing in from all sides. My heart races as I look around frantically, searching for any sign of life. Suddenly, I see her—Lyra, standing alone and looking scared, her eyes wide with fear.


    "Lyra!" I call out, but my voice feels muffled in the oppressive darkness.


    I take a step towards her, but then I hear the Inquisitor''s mocking voice echoing around me. "You''re but a shadow of your former self, Ryu. Your sentimentality has made you weak."


    Before I can react, a red lightsaber pierces Lyra''s chest. Her eyes go wide, her mouth opens in a silent scream. I rush towards her, desperate to catch her, but as I reach out, she disappears into the void.


    "No!" I scream, my voice lost in the emptiness. The Inquisitor''s voice continues to mock me as he begins to cackle, the words cutting deeper than any blade. "You''re the reason she is dead."


    ?????


    I wake up with a start, gasping for breath. The space I''m in is cramped, with metal walls lined with emergency supplies and a small control panel flickering dimly. My head spins as I try to piece together where I am and what happened.


    "Where... where am I?" I mutter, then I realize. "The escape pod."


    I call out, my voice shaky. "Apollo? B4? IG-22?"


    There''s no response. I notice the pod''s door is open, and beyond it, I see greenery and a clear blue sky. I step out, the fresh air hitting my face. I find myself in a lush place, surrounded by rolling hills and tall, ancient trees. The ground is covered in a thick carpet of grass, and I hear the distant sound of a stream.


    Before me lies the wreckage of the Crucible. The ship is a twisted mass of metal and debris, its once-proud hull now broken and scattered across the landscape. Smoke rises from several sections, and sparks fly from exposed wires. The sight fills me with a deep sense of loss.


    As I take in the scene, I spot Apollo standing by the wreckage, its metallic body gleaming in the sunlight. It looks up as I approach, its sensors flickering.


    I stop a few steps away, my heart heavy with questions and uncertainty. "Apollo," I say, my voice barely above a whisper,


    The droid turns its head towards me, its photoreceptors focusing. "Ryu, you are awake," it says, its tone neutral but carrying a hint of relief.


    I take a deep breath, looking at the destruction around me. The reality of our situation starts to sink in.


    "Where''s Lyra?" I ask, my voice heavy with dread.


    Apollo turns and points to the left.


    I follow his gesture and see a body lying on the grassy knoll, a cloth draped over it. Sadness washes over me, a crushing wave that leaves me momentarily breathless. I approach slowly, each step feeling like an eternity.


    "What happened, Apollo?" I ask, my throat tight. "And where are the other droids?"


    Before Apollo can respond, DP-7 emerges from the wreckage, ecstatically beeping as it flies around me. The sight of the little probe droid brings a brief moment of comfort. "I''m fine, DP-7," I assure it, though my heart feels far from okay.


    Apollo interrupts the moment, his tone somber. "The other droids were destroyed in the crash, Ryu. They are beyond repair."


    I look back at Apollo, my concern growing. "What happened? The last thing I remember is kneeling beside Lyra."


    Apollo''s sensors flicker as he prepares to explain, the weight of the situation settling over us like a dark cloud.


    ?????


    Apollo stands on the bridge of the Crucible, watching the eerie yellow hues of hyperspace wash over the ship. The unsettling color of the tunnel of light puzzles it, as this is unlike any hyperspace travel he had observed before. AP-4 is at the controls, attempting to take the ship out of hyperspace, but the controls were unresponsive.


    "Are the controls damaged?" Apollo asks, its mechanical voice calm but with a hint of concern.


    AP-4''s response is swift. "No, they are not. The systems are fully operational yet aren''t responding."


    The ship began to shake violently, causing panels to fall from the ceiling and an explosion to echo through the corridors. Just then, Ryu steps into the bridge, his face etched with worry.


    "What''s happening?"


    "The engines are failing," AP-4 reports. "We are unable to disengage the hyperdrive. It''s putting a lot of stress on the hull and the engines."


    "This form of hyperspace travel is far faster," Apollo added, its sensors flickering with urgency. "The Crucible will tear itself apart if it continues under this stress."


    "If this is causing so much stress to the ship, why haven''t you disengaged the hyperdrive?" Ryu asks, frustration edging his voice.


    AP-7''s head swivels toward him, its photoreceptors flickering. The droid pauses before responding, its voice steady but tinged with mechanical frustration. "I am trying to, Master Ryu, but the systems... are not responding."


    Ryu frowns, glancing at the console. The ship shudders again, the sound of strained metal filling the cabin.


    "Keep working on it," he says, his tone firm. "We can''t afford to be stuck in this... whatever this is."


    Ryu turns quickly to Apollo. "Apollo, come with me to the engine room."


    Apollo''s sensors flicker as it processes the command. "What for?" the droid asks, a note of curiosity in its voice.


    Ryu''s expression hardens as the ship groans again, more violently this time. "We need to shut off the hyperdrive manually," he says, already moving toward the door. "Or else we''re going to be torn to bits."


    Without hesitation, Apollo follows, the weight of the situation clear as the two head for the engine room.


    They race down the corridors as the Crucible shakes violently around them, sparks shooting from flickering lights. The low hum of the hyperdrive is growing more erratic. Reaching the engine room, Ryu gestures to the massive hyperdrive core at the center.


    The engine room is in disarray. Smoke billowed from damaged machinery, sparks flying from severed cables. The hyperdrive itself is a hulking piece of technology, now riddled with cracks and emitting a high-pitched whine. Ryu and Apollo hurry to the hyperdrive, trying to mess with its controls.


    "It''s not responding to any commands," Ryu says as he furiously presses the various buttons, frustration in his voice. "Apollo, interface with it. See if you can override the system," Ryu orders.


    Apollo steps forward, extending a hacking appendage from its arm. "Understood."


    As Apollo plugs into the hyperdrive''s control panel, the droid''s sensors flicker. It whirs and clicks, processing the system commands. A moment later, a sharp, loud spark shoots out from the control panel, knocking Apollo back several feet. The droid stumbles but quickly regains balance.


    "The system is completely locked," Apollo reports. "I am unable to disengage it."


    Suddenly, AP-4''s voice crackles through the intercom. "Master Ryu, the Crucible won''t last much longer. The hull integrity is rapidly deteriorating. At any moment, the ship will be torn apart."


    The ship''s groaning intensifies, the sound of metal straining against impossible forces filling the air. Ryu''s jaw tightens as he looks at the hyperdrive. Without hesitation, he steps forward and ignites his yellow lightsaber.


    "Stand back, Apollo," Ryu warns, his voice tense.


    Apollo moves back as Ryu raises his blade. With a swift, powerful swing, Ryu brings the lightsaber down on the hyperdrive core, slicing it in half. The lightsaber cuts through the metal like butter, but the moment it connects, a violent explosion of energy bursts from the hyperdrive.


    A sudden force propels Ryu backward, slamming him hard against the wall. His vision blurs, pain shooting through his body as the impact renders him unconscious. The last thing he hears is the groaning of the ship before everything goes black.


    The Crucible lurches violently, sending sparks flying from the control panels. Over the ship''s intercom, AP-4''s voice crackles through the static, "We have just jumped out of hyperspace but are in atmosphere. The ship is going down."


    An impact alarm blares through the ship, a loud, piercing sound that echoes in every corridor.


    AP-4 continues, its tone urgent. "Impact in three minutes. Ryu, head for the escape pod immediately! I''ll try to keep the ship steady, but you need to hurry."


    Apollo glances at the unconscious form of Ryu, lying crumpled against the wall. Acting quickly, it moves forward, lifting Ryu''s limp body into its arms. The ship shakes violently, warning lights flickering as the Crucible rapidly descends.


    Carrying Ryu through the shaking corridors, Apollo passes the med bay. It stops momentarily, looking at Lyra''s lifeless body lying on the medical table. A calculated pause, and then Apollo carefully picks her up, cradling both Ryu and Lyra in its arms as it hurries toward the escape pod.


    The impact alarm blares louder, the ship groaning as it tears through the atmosphere. AP-4''s voice returns, distorted with static, "Impact in two minutes. Hurry."


    Apollo reaches the escape pod, the door sliding open with a hiss. Gently, it places Ryu and Lyra on the floor of the pod. The ship shudders again, the metal creaking under the strain. The droid moves quickly to fetch the remaining droids on board, but just as it steps back toward the door, the pod''s doors slam shut with a metallic thud.


    "No," Apollo murmurs, turning toward the console. But before it can stop it, the escape pod launches, propelling them away from the doomed Crucible.


    Apollo watches as the pod soars through the air, leaving the ship behind. Outside the viewport, the Crucible descends rapidly, the atmosphere distorting as the ship hurtles toward impact.


    Apollo watches through the pod''s viewport as the blue atmosphere rushes past, revealing vast blue oceans and green landscapes below. The Crucible, now a fiery inferno, plummeted towards the ground, leaving a trail of smoke and debris in its wake.


    ?????


    Cutting back to the here and now, Apollo stands beside the wreckage of the Crucible, the memories fresh in its processors. "I engaged the pod''s emergency parachute and we landed safely, not far from the wreckage of the Crucible," Apollo finishes, its voice tinged with the weight of their ordeal.


    Standing beside my destroyed ship, I take in the scene. The green hills and trees were a stark contrast to the chaos that had brought us here. I glance over at Apollo, the loss of Lyra and my ship weighing heavily on my heart.


    I stand there for a moment, taking in the lush greenery around me. The air is fresh, the sky a perfect blue with a few white clouds lazily drifting by. Birds are flying in the sky, their songs filling the air with a sense of life and vibrancy that contrasts starkly with the heaviness in my heart.


    "We need to bury her," I say quietly, turning to Apollo.


    Apollo nods. "Not far from here, there is a hill that overlooks a valley. At the top of the hill is a tree bearing red fruit. It would be an ideal spot."


    I pick up Lyra''s body, cradling her gently, and follow Apollo to the suggested spot. As we walk, I take in the surroundings. The path is lined with wildflowers, their colors vivid against the green grass. The valley below is lush and beautiful, a tapestry of rolling hills, dense forests, and a sparkling river winding its way through. The sun is high in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over everything.


    At the top of the hill, a tree stands tall and strong, its branches heavy with red fruit. Birds flit in and out of its foliage, chirping merrily. The view from here is breathtaking, the valley stretching out in all its glory, a serene and peaceful place. Apollo begins to dig the hole, his mechanical limbs working efficiently. I stand there, holding Lyra, my mind a swirl of memories and emotions. When the grave is ready, I place her gently into it. We cover the grave together, the finality of each shovelful of earth hitting me hard.


    I reach into my pocket and pull out the small hologram display chip, feeling the edges with my thumb before I turn it on. The familiar flicker lights up, and there she is—Lyra, frozen in a memory.


    She''s standing beside me, her arm slung comfortably around my shoulders, that wide, infectious grin on her face. I''m smiling back at her, the warmth in my eyes evident, though I can hardly remember what that felt like anymore. Behind us looms the Crucible, its hull marked by wear and tear, panels missing and a few scorch marks trailing along the sides. It looks rough, but there''s a certain newness to the neglect, like it had just started showing signs of the long journey ahead.


    Lyra, of course, is wearing her signature grease stain like a badge of honor, a streak across her shirt that she never bothered to clean off. Always working on something, always finding a way to patch things up.


    The landing bay around us is cluttered with crates, tools, and the odd bit of scrap, all scattered near the ship. I remember that day. The buzz of activity was always there, but it fades into the background in this moment. All I can focus on is her—the way she looks at me, that easy smile, like she had all the time in the world.


    A tear rolls down my cheek as I stare at the hologram, the memory of that day heavier than I expected. We''d just started then, barely a scratch on the surface of what was to come. The Crucible, a bit worn but still holding the promise of all those untold adventures.


    But now... all that''s left is this—an image, frozen in time, and the pain of everything we lost since.


    Apollo, in the meantime, finds a large enough rock and uses its vibro-blade to cut and carve into a tombstone. It etches the words: ''Here rests Lyra. Loyal friend, steadfast companion, and the heart that kept us flying. The stars are dimmer without her.'' It places the gravestone by the grave, and I place the hologram chip, still displaying the image, on top of the grave.


    I turn to Apollo, grief washing over me. My voice cracks as I try to contain my tears. "Can you go back to the wreckage and set up camp?"This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Apollo presses a hand on my shoulder, a surprisingly comforting gesture from a droid. "Ryu, she would want you to carry on. To keep fighting. Remember the strength she gave you. You are not alone."


    His words, simple yet kind, make me feel slightly better. When I turn back to look at it, Apollo is already gone, heading back to the wreckage. I find myself all alone.


    Grief takes over, and I fall to my knees before the grave, tears streaming down my face. "I hope you''re resting peacefully, Lyra," I whisper, my voice breaking. "I''m so sorry."


    I stay there, letting the waves of sorrow crash over me, feeling the weight of my loss and the emptiness it leaves behind. As I look up, I notice the sun is setting. The sky is painted in hues of orange, pink, and purple, the light casting long shadows across the valley. The beauty of the scene is bittersweet, a stark contrast to the sorrow I feel. I hadn''t realized how much time had passed since we started this grim task.


    ?????


    Reluctantly, I head back to the wreckage, pocketing the hologram display chip. Apollo has been busy, setting up a makeshift camp. An open tent stands nearby, its fabric flapping gently in the evening breeze. A small fire crackles, providing warmth and a place to cook. Several crates have been moved into a semblance of order around the camp.


    When Apollo spots me, it approaches. "How are you feeling, Ryu? Do you feel any better?"


    I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Not really, Apollo. It''s hard to feel better after... everything."


    Apollo nods, its sensors flickering in understanding. I notice my bed set up inside the tent and raise an eyebrow. "Why did you bring out my bed?"


    "A bed is far comfier than the hard ground," Apollo replies matter-of-factly.


    I can''t help but laugh at the absurdity of the statement. Apollo tilts its head. "What is so funny?"


    "It''s nothing, Apollo," I say, shaking my head. "Just... thank you."


    I look around the camp and ask, "What supplies were you able to procure?"


    Apollo responds honestly, "I wasn''t able to acquire much. A few days'' worth of food, some weapons, and one speeder bike along with tools, clothes, cooking gear, and various gadgets."


    The tools and gadgets are neatly arranged, including a E-10 blaster rifle, a standard issue mud trooper blaster rifle showing signs of wear, a Zygerrian energy bow, an exotic weapon with sleek lines and a glowing energy string, a few vibro knives; their blades sharp and ready and an EC-17 blaster pistol missing its scope, a reliable weapon with a small, compact design. There are also a decent amount of blaster gas cartridges and power cells, a small generator, a few planetary probes, some fuel cells, and several tarps.


    The cooking gear includes a small pot, a pan, and some utensils, all set up near the fire. The clothes are practical and durable, suitable for outdoor survival. The various gadgets include a data pad, a portable scanner, and a couple of commlinks.


    I look over the equipment spread out before me, then turn to Apollo. "Is this all you could procure?" I ask, hoping there might be more.


    Apollo nods. "Yes, Ryu. That is all that is in good condition."


    Lyra''s room comes to mind, and a thought strikes me. "I need to check on something in the Crucible. Can you prepare a meal for me in the meantime?"


    Apollo tilts its head slightly. "I can. What are you going to do?"


    "I just need to check on something," I say simply, turning and heading back towards the wreckage of the Crucible.


    The interior is an absolute mess. The once orderly corridors are now filled with debris, panels hanging loosely from the ceiling, and wires sparking intermittently. The familiar hum of the ship is replaced by an eerie silence, punctuated by the occasional creak of settling metal. I have to use the Force to move large chunks of metal and equipment blocking my path. The effort is taxing, but I manage to clear the way.


    As I navigate through the wreckage, I realize I''ve entered the galley. The state of the room is heartbreaking. The tables and chairs are overturned, the gaming table broken in half, and the tiny kitchen is barely recognizable with pots and pans scattered everywhere. The once cozy space, filled with warmth and camaraderie, is now a scene of devastation. I turn to the right, using the Force to move more debris out of the way. The objects—broken pieces of the ceiling, a fallen cabinet, and various supplies—are heavy, but they yield to my power.


    I stop before Lyra''s quarters. The door to my quarters is open, revealing a complete mess inside. The bed frame is overturned, personal items are strewn across the floor, and the small closet door hangs off its hinges. But Lyra''s room isn''t as bad. The door is slightly ajar, and through the gap, I can see a few overturned items, a broken drawer, and scattered tools.


    Using the Force, I start to return the room to its original state. I move each object meticulously, placing them exactly where they were. The small workbench, covered in various droid parts and tools, is the first to be straightened. I pick up a hydrospanner, a soldering iron, and several delicate components, arranging them neatly on the bench. Staring at her tools for a moment, my hand hovers over them hesitantly before I place them in my messenger bag. The chair, which had been knocked over, is righted and pushed back into place.


    Next, I focus on the decorations. A small holocron Lyra had found on one of our adventures is placed back on the shelf. A few trinkets and mementos, gifts from grateful clients and friends, are returned to their spots. I set the bed back to its original position, smoothing out the rumpled sheets and placing a small, handmade pillow at the head.


    The slight damages remain—a cracked drawer, a bent lamp—but the room looks as it did before the crash. As I stand there, memories of Lyra flood my mind. Her laughter, her enthusiasm, the way she would get so absorbed in her work, humming softly to herself. The room, now eerily silent, seems to echo with her presence.


    My gaze falls on her journal, lying on the now-straightened bedside table. It''s a simple, leather-bound book, well-worn from frequent use. I reach out and grab it, holding it tightly. The cover feels cool and familiar under my fingers.


    The room is silent, save for the distant sounds of the forest outside. The weight of loss presses down on me, but in this moment, surrounded by the remnants of her presence, I feel a small connection to her. I open the journal, flipping through the pages filled with her neat, precise handwriting. Sketches of droid parts, notes on repairs, and personal musings fill the pages. Each entry is a testament to her skill, her dedication, and her love for her work. I close the journal gently and tuck it into my messenger bag. Taking a deep breath, I step out of Lyra''s room, the sorrow heavy in my heart but mingled with a sense of gratitude for having known her.


    As I return to the camp, night begins to fall. The sky is a deepening shade of blue, stars gradually appearing and twinkling above. The landscape around us is cloaked in shadows, the silhouettes of trees and hills barely visible in the dim light. The only source of illumination is the campfire, its flickering flames casting a warm, orange glow over the immediate area.


    Apollo is crouched by the fire, stirring a pot of what I can only assume is some form of soup. The smell isn''t promising, and the sight of the food isn''t much better. The soup looks like a murky, brownish sludge, far from appetizing. Apollo notices me and stands up, holding out a bowl of the concoction.


    "Here, Ryu," Apollo says, presenting the bowl with a mechanical but genuine sincerity.


    I take the bowl and sit by the fire, taking a hesitant sip. The taste is horrible, a mix of bland and bitter flavors that make me wince. It''s the worst thing I''ve ever tasted, and I struggle to swallow it.


    Apollo watches me closely, its sensors flickering. "How does it taste?"


    I pause for a moment, considering my response. Honesty seems the best policy. "It''s the worst thing I''ve ever tasted, Apollo. The meal rations are bland to begin with, but you somehow made it taste even worse."


    Apollo''s head tilts slightly. "This is the first time I have ever cooked. I apologize. I should have told you that."


    Despite the awful taste in my mouth, I can''t help but chuckle. "It''s okay, Apollo. How about I take care of the cooking from now on?"


    "Affirmative."


    ?????


    I continue eating, each spoonful a challenge, but I appreciate Apollo''s effort. The night is quiet except for the crackling of the fire and the distant sounds of the forest. As we sit together, the sense of companionship helps to ease the weight of the day''s sorrow, even if only a little.


    Apollo breaks the silence, its mechanical voice soft but curious. "Ryu, what are our next steps?"


    I put down the empty bowl, grateful to be done with the awful meal, and start messing with my gauntlet. A hologram display flickers to life, but instead of the familiar galactic map, it''s blank. "Strange," I mutter. "Usually, a map of the galaxy appears, but there''s nothing."


    Apollo nods. "I myself haven''t intercepted a single signal. The entire planet is quiet."


    "Maybe we''re on an uncharted planet that''s a bit behind on a technical level," I suggest, heading over to the crates Apollo gathered earlier. I rummage through them, my fingers brushing against the various items inside. "Only four probes," I mutter to myself. "The Crucible had dozens."


    I pull out what looks like four little rockets, placing them on the ground fin-down. Each probe is sleek and cylindrical, about a foot long, with small stabilizing fins and a tiny thruster at the base. They have a metallic sheen, reflecting the firelight.


    Apollo tilts its head. "What are those?"


    "These are planetary probes," I explain. "They''re capable of charting the entire planet from the planets orbit. Normally I''d send dozens and the process would only take a few hours, but only four have survived the crash. With the help of these probes, we''ll have a proper and detailed map of the surface."


    Apollo''s sensors flicker in what seems to be amazement. I kneel beside the probes and tap a few commands on my gauntlet. The probes beep softly, their tiny thrusters igniting with a low hum. One by one, they lift off, shooting into the night sky. The darkness is illuminated briefly by the blue glow of their thrusters before they disappear into the vast expanse.


    The night sky is a canvas of deep blue and black, dotted with countless stars twinkling brightly. The probes become mere specks before vanishing entirely. The planet''s moon hangs low, casting a silvery glow over the landscape.


    Apollo turns to me. "How long will it take for them to complete the mapping?"


    I watch the sky for a moment before answering. "Three or four rotations, give or take."


    We stand there in silence for a moment, the crackling of the fire and the distant sounds of nocturnal creatures the only things breaking the stillness. The enormity of our situation weighs on me but knowing that we''re taking steps to understand this planet brings a small measure of comfort.


    ?????


    Five rotations have passed since we first landed on this unknown planet. We were unable to set up any form of communication as none of the relay dishes of the Crucible survived the impact. Not that anyone could even hear us even if they had survived. Me and Apollo haven''t been able to pick up a single transmission or signal on this world. We were constantly attacked by packs of canines with black and gray fur so Apollo and I have decided to move camp, seeking a more secure location. During this time, Apollo managed to find a relatively intact speeder bike inside the wreckage and we spent two rotations fixing it. While I don''t have as much experience as Lyra, Apollo has proven to be almost as good as she was. I am truly thankful for Apollo; it feels as if a part of her is still with me through the droid.


    We added a compartment for Apollo to sit in and a wagon to carry our goods. Though we have a limited amount of fuel cells, we have enough for around twenty to thirty planetary rotations of travel. As we journeyed, we didn''t come across any other sentient beings or signs of civilizations, but we did encounter wild beasts.


    One afternoon, we faced a massive creature covered in thick fur, standing on all fours with long, sharp claws and a powerful jaw filled with teeth. It roared and charged at us, but surprisingly, it was relatively easy to kill with our blaster. Another time, we saw a pack of sleek, predatory canines with sharp fangs, pointed ears, gray fur, and piercing eyes. They moved gracefully through the forest, their howls echoing in the night.


    On the second rotation, we had to hide in dense shrubbery as a horde of large, dragon-like creatures soared overhead. Their leathery wings flapped powerfully, and their elongated necks and tails made them appear even more menacing. They had sharp talons and a predatory glint in their eyes, but luckily, they didn''t spot us.


    On the third rotation, we stumbled upon a road made of plastered stone. The surface was smooth but cracked in places, with weeds growing through the gaps. It stretched far into the distance, a sign of civilization that once thrived here. We tasked DP-7 with monitoring the road, hoping it might lead us to more clues about this place.


    We continued our journey, venturing deeper into the forest. There, we found a cave hidden among the trees. The entrance was partially obscured by hanging vines and thick foliage. It was deep and spacious enough to provide shelter, and we decided to set up camp inside. On the fifth day I instructed DP-7 to return to me and share what it has seen.


    ?????


    I sit by the fire within the cave, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the rocky walls. The warmth is comforting, a small reprieve from the chill of the night. Apollo is currently recharging its power cells, its photoreceptors dim as it enters a low-power state. The cave is silent except for the crackling fire and the occasional rustle of leaves outside.


    DP-7 arrives, its tiny frame buzzing with excitement. It projects a hologram into the air before me. I watch as the image comes into focus, revealing the road we discovered a few days ago. My eyes widen as I see a group of human males walking along it. There are about two dozen of them, moving with purpose and discipline.


    They are dressed in armor, made of metal plates and chainmail, glinting in the sunlight. The armor covers their bodies, providing both protection and an imposing presence. They carry long spears and shields, moving in a tight, organized military formation. Their faces are stern, their eyes scanning the surroundings with vigilance.


    In the center of the group, I see a large, muscular creature with a sleek coat and strong legs. Its mane is thick and flows down its neck, and its powerful frame suggests it can carry heavy loads with ease. This creature is harnessed to a sturdy wooden carriage, adorned with intricate carvings and reinforced with metal bands. The carriage has large wheels and is covered with a roof, giving it a stately appearance.


    A driver sits atop the carriage, holding the reins with a firm grip. He is dressed in simple but functional clothing, his eyes focused on the road ahead. On the door of the carriage is a crest, intricately designed and emblazoned with symbols I cannot quite decipher from the hologram.


    I lean in closer, studying the hologram. The hologram fast-forwards, and I see many more people crossing these roads. The variety of individuals and their appearances are fascinating and foreign to me. The first scene shows a man guiding a flock of small, woolly creatures. These animals have curly coats and short legs, bleating softly as they move. The man, dressed in simple peasant garb, carries a crooked stick, urging the creatures along.


    The scene shifts, revealing a diverse group of individuals who look like they belong in tales of ancient warriors and wizards. One of them is a tall, muscular being with green skin and tusks protruding from its lower jaw. Its brutish appearance is both intimidating and awe-inspiring. Beside it are a couple of lithe figures with pointed ears, carrying intricately carved bows. Their movements are graceful, and their sharp eyes constantly scan the surroundings.


    A female figure in flowing robes stands out, carrying a staff that glows with an otherworldly light. Her expression is serene, yet powerful, as if she commands the very elements around her. Nearby, a stout, bearded individual with a sturdy build clutches a massive hammer, every bit as tough as the metal armor he wears. Completing the group is a figure in shining armor, carrying a sword and shield, moving with the disciplined precision of a seasoned warrior.


    As I watch, another squad of armored men appears, escorting a carriage similar to the first one I saw. This carriage is also ornate, with a crest on its door. Suddenly, they are ambushed by a group of bandits. The attackers are a motley crew, comprising various races—some similar to the beings I saw earlier, with pointed ears and unusual skin tones.


    One of the bandits steps forward, raising a hand. A bright light emanates from his palm, and with a sweeping motion, a burst of flames erupts towards the armored men. The soldiers react quickly, raising their shields to deflect the attack. Chaos ensues as the two groups clash.


    The armored men fight valiantly, their spears and swords clashing against the crude weapons of the bandits. Despite their bravery, they suffer losses. One soldier falls to the ground, clutching his side where a bandit''s blade has struck. Another is engulfed in flames, his screams echoing silently as he collapses.


    The bandits'' leader, the one casting flames, tries to unleash another burst, but a spear finds its mark, silencing him. With their leader down, the remaining bandits scatter, retreating into the forest. The surviving soldiers regroup around the carriage, tending to their wounded and mourning their dead.


    The hologram flickers and pauses, leaving me to process what I''ve seen. The diversity of the beings, their attire, their weapons—everything is so different from what I''m used to. The hologram disappears, leaving me deep in thought. The equipment these people use seems so primitive compared to what I''m accustomed to. The contrast is stark, and I can''t help but wonder what kind of world we''ve landed on.


    ?????


    Suddenly, a shrill scream pierces the air, snapping me out of my reverie. I turn towards the cave entrance and see a young woman standing there, her face pale with terror. She drops a woven basket, which spills an assortment of plants and herbs onto the ground. Her hair is long and wavy, a rich chestnut color cascading down her back. She''s dressed in a simple, well-worn dress made of sturdy fabric, with a fitted bodice and a full skirt that reaches her ankles. Over her dress, she wears a faded apron with pockets, clearly designed for practical use. Her woven shoes are dusted with dirt, indicating she has been walking through the forest for some time.


    She''s pointing at Apollo, her eyes wide with fear, screaming in a language I can understand. "What is that thing? A monster? A golem?"


    Apollo takes a step towards her, its mechanical limbs moving smoothly. "Please, do not be afraid," it says, its voice calm and soothing, but the woman''s panic only intensifies. "Stay back! Don''t come any closer!" she shouts, her voice trembling with terror.


    The woman turns and flees, her dress billowing behind her as she runs down the forest path, the hem occasionally catching on underbrush and fallen leaves.


    I exchange a glance with Apollo and we both take off after her. "Wait!" I call out, but she doesn''t stop. She''s fast, darting through the trees with surprising agility. Despite our best efforts, we lose sight of her as she disappears into the dense foliage.


    We return to the cave, only me breathing heavily from the exertion. My mind is racing, trying to make sense of what just happened. As I replay the scene in my head, I realize something strange—I was able to understand her. The words she screamed, the tone of her voice—it was all familiar.


    "She was speaking Galactic Basic," Apollo points out, its sensors flickering as if processing the situation.


    I nod, still catching my breath. "Yeah... that''s interesting. It means we can communicate with the people here, at least."


    Apollo tilts its head slightly, as if contemplating the implications. "Why do you think that human female screamed at me like that?"


    I glance at Apollo, shrugging slightly. "Maybe... maybe on this world, they''ve never seen a droid before."


    Apollo''s photoreceptors flicker in thought. "She might see us as a threat. It is possible she could return with additional people. Armed people."


    I pause for a moment, nodding slowly. "If that happens, we''ll try not to resort to violence," I say, my tone calm but resolute.


    Apollo nods in agreement. "Understood."


    I noticed my stomach rumbling, hunger starting to gnaw at me. Apollo, ever observant, asked, "Would you like me to prepare a meal for you?"


    "No, no," I hastily reply, not wanting to offend the droid. "We need to keep the rations. They can last for a good amount of time."


    Apollo seemed to understand, though I could sense a hint of disappointment in its mechanical gaze. "I''m going out to hunt," I say, patting the droid on the shoulder before slinging my E-10 blaster rifle over my shoulder. I checked my gauntlet and turned on my communicator. After a quick back and forth between myself and Apollo to ensure it was working, I headed out.