Alex poured himself another cup of caf and settled comfortably in front of the screen. His uncle's workshop was plunged into night silence. He turned off the holonet – Imperial propaganda was irritating, and now he needed silence for reflection. The rain continued to drum on the metal roof, creating a monotonous background that was good for thinking.
Captain Kord's data turned out to be different from what he expected. No enthusiastic descriptions of great discoveries – only dry reports from a black marketeer assessing the potential profit from his finds.
"Personal log, entry 127. System KX-471 met expectations. The ruins are extensive but heavily destroyed by time. Local savages avoid this place – good for work. Preliminary estimate – enough material for two to three cargo loads, if lucky."
Alex chuckled, taking a sip of the bitter caf. A typical smuggler's approach – how much could be taken out and for how much could it be sold. No scientific interest, only commercial calculation. He imagined Kord – probably a wiry middle-aged man with a cynical outlook on the world, for whom ancient mysteries were just a source of income.
"Entry 134. Collected the first batch of artifacts. Most are metal plates with incomprehensible symbols, a few crystalline formations, remnants of some mechanisms. All very ancient, but in good condition. Buyers on Coruscant like such things for their collections."
"Entry 141. Discovered strange crystals in the lower levels of the ruins. They glow faintly from within, R4 registers some energy fields. I don't understand the principle of operation, but they look expensive. Took about twenty for a trial batch."
Alex frowned, peering at the flickering text on the screen. Crystals with energy fields sounded more interesting than simple antiquities for collectors.
"Entry 156. Interesting encounter on Coruscant. One of the buyers – some scientist or collector, didn't introduce himself – was very interested in the metal plates with symbols. Said they were artifacts of the 'Rakatan' and paid ten times the initial price. Asked me to bring more if I found any."
At the word "Rakatan," Alex straightened up sharply, and the caf in his cup almost spilled. He put it down on the table and reread the entry, making sure he hadn't made a mistake.
Information about the Rakatan was one of the most classified secrets of the galaxy. There was very little about them in public archives – only hints and fragmented mentions in works dedicated to other topics. Alex had to spend months at KTI, digging through the oldest sources, to learn at least the basics.
Most of the files had too high an access level – even his status as an excellent student did not grant him the right to study materials of such secrecy. Official archives remained silent, as if this civilization had never existed. Every request for access to classified data was rejected with the wording "insufficient access level." If not for Professor Shane's archive, he still wouldn't have known anything about them.
The Rakatan existed long before the founding of the Republic. Their technology surpassed anything known to modern galactic civilization. They created Star Forges – automated stations capable of producing entire fleets. Their empire stretched from the Core to the Outer Rim, uniting thousands of worlds under the rule of one race.
But something happened. The Great Collapse, as ancient sources called it. In a few generations, the mighty civilization collapsed, leaving behind only ruins and legends. The reasons for this cataclysm remained a mystery – some sources spoke of a slave revolt, others of some cosmic catastrophe, still others hinted at the intervention of dark forces.
And now Kord had found their ruins, Alex thought, continuing to read the entries. Real, physical evidence of their existence. Not legends and half-destroyed texts, but actual artifacts of the galaxy's most ancient civilization.
"Entry 163. Returned to KX-471 for the second batch. That buyer was right – there's definitely something special here. I collected everything I could find with similar symbols. I hope he pays just as generously."
"Entry 171. The sale was successful. The buyer was delighted, especially with the crystalline formations. He paid even more and asked for the coordinates of the find. I refused, of course – I'm not a fool. But now I understand that I've found a gold mine."
Alex chuckled. Kord was cautious – that was good. The coordinates of ancient ruins were indeed worth a fortune, and sharing them with the first person he met would be foolish. But who was this mysterious buyer? A private collector? Or a representative of some secret organization?
He walked around the workshop, reflecting on what he had read. The shelves with spare parts cast long shadows in the light of the desk lamps, and the holographic displays flickered, showing schematics of various mechanisms.
"Entry 178. Something's wrong. I've been followed since I left Coruscant. An unknown ship is keeping its distance, but it's not falling behind. I'm changing course, but the pursuit continues. Perhaps that buyer decided to get the coordinates by force."
The atmosphere in the entries changed abruptly. If Kord had sounded confident and even smug before, now his voice carried notes of anxiety. Alex imagined the smuggler nervously glancing at the scanners and trying to break away from his pursuers in the labyrinth of hyperspace routes.
"Entry 179. They attacked. The ship is damaged, the life support system is out of order. I'm trying to reach the nearest system, setting the autopilot. R4, if anything happens, save all the data and encrypt it. Activate only by my voice. The coordinates of KX-471 are worth a lot of money."
This was the last entry. Alex leaned back in his chair, pondering what he had read. Outside, the storm was gradually subsiding, but the rain continued to drum on the workshop roof. The neon lights of the city flickered through the watery curtain, creating blurred spots of light in the darkness.
Kord was killed for the artifacts he found, he realized. Someone didn't want the information about the location of the ruins to become public. The buyer? Or someone else?
This meant that the expedition to KX-471 would be extremely dangerous. But it also confirmed the value of the find. No one kills over useless trinkets. If someone was willing to commit murder for these coordinates, then the ruins truly contained something exceptionally important.
Alex stood up and walked over to R4-K9. The droid waited patiently in standby mode, its sensors dimly flickering in the semi-darkness of the workshop. These astromech droids were reliable companions for space travelers – their memory stored navigation data, technical information, and personal logs of their owners.
"R4, activate," he said.
"Listening, Master Alex," the droid replied in its characteristic electronic voice.
"Do you have the coordinates of system KX-471 in your memory?"
"Apologies, access to navigation data requires full captain authorization."
"What about additional logs? Personal files?"
"Only the basic logs you have already reviewed are available."
Alex pondered, tapping his fingers on the droid's chassis. He needed to find a way to get full access to R4-K9's memory, but it would take time and special equipment.
"R4, enter maintenance mode," he said.
"Confirmed. Entering maintenance mode."
The droid froze, its sensors dimmed. Alex carefully removed the rear panel of the chassis, revealing a complex network of crystalline memory modules. Each crystal, the size of a human finger, shimmered with a faint blue light.
Years of working with droids had taught him to understand their architecture. He knew that navigation data was stored in protected sectors of the main memory, but security protocols blocked access without owner authorization.
Alex carefully removed three central memory crystals using special tweezers. It was a delicate operation – one careless move could damage the fragile contacts.
"Initializing hibernation mode," he muttered, activating a special program on his datapad.
Connecting the device to the droid's diagnostic port, Alex initiated a deep system reboot procedure. Lines of code scrolled across the screen, showing how R4-K9's operating system was gradually shutting down.
When the process was complete, he rearranged the memory crystals in a different order. The main data modules remained in place, but he swapped the system crystals with protection protocols with the backup modules.
"System reboot," Alex said, activating the droid.
R4-K9 slowly came to life. Its sensors flickered, and its chassis vibrated slightly. For a few seconds, the droid calibrated its systems, then its holographic projector activated.
"Diagnostics complete. Violations detected in the authorization system. Switching to basic access protocols."
"R4, grant access to Captain Kord's navigation data."
"Access granted. Loading navigation database."
Alex smiled. The trick had worked – rearranging the memory crystals had forced the system to reset the security protocols while preserving all the data.
A star map with many marked systems appeared on the holographic projector. One of them – KX-471 – glowed with a red marker.
"Now this is really interesting," Alex muttered, pouring himself more caf from his thermos.
The liquid was already cool, but the caffeine was still working, keeping him alert late into the night. Outside, the rain continued to drum against the glass, and dawn had already begun outside, reflecting in the puddles of the transitions. New horizons opened before him – a path to forgotten worlds and ancient secrets. This was the opportunity he had dreamed of for years, studying fragmented mentions of ancient civilizations in the KTI archives.
The decision was made – he would organize an expedition to the ruins on KX-471. This was exactly what he had been saving money for all these years, exactly the goal that justified years of living on this dirty moon among smugglers and criminals.
The next day, Alex began preparations. Years of living on Nar Shaddaa had taught him to plan every step, anticipate potential problems, and always have backup options. First, he needed to ensure financial stability during his absence.
He activated the workshop's communication system and began contacting all his regular clients. Holographic images of the clients appeared on the projector one after another – smugglers, traders, sometimes representatives of more respectable professions who preferred not to advertise their visits to Nar Shaddaa.
"Captain Rex? Alex from 'Star Anchor'. Do you have any orders for the next month? I'm taking on work."
"Alex!" the wiry man in a worn leather jacket responded. "Just in time. I need to install additional fuel tanks on the 'Lucky Star'. Plus, replace the navigation computer – the old one has started glitching."
"Understood. Send the ship over tomorrow morning."
Next was the rare metals trader Seneska – a cautious man who never said where he got his goods but always paid in cash.
"I need a modification of the cargo holds," he said, appearing on the hologram as a blurry figure – Seneska preferred anonymity. "Additional shielding from scanners. The usual."
"Got it. What's the deadline?"
"The sooner, the better. I'll pay double rate for urgency."
Alex smiled. The money was coming in faster than he expected. By the end of the day, he had enough orders to keep the workshop comfortably afloat for several months.
The next two weeks saw the "Star Anchor" dock operating at peak capacity. Repair droids worked around the clock, their metallic manipulators never tiring, and their built-in scanners ensuring perfect precision. Alex personally oversaw every project, checking the quality of each component's installation.
The atmosphere in the dock was tense but productive. The sounds of welding, metal cutting, and working engines merged into a symphony. Sparks from plasma cutters illuminated the workstations, and holographic schematics flickered on numerous displays.
Money flowed into accounts faster than usual—clients valued the quality of his work and were willing to pay for urgency. Alex monitored the balance in his hidden accounts across various banks. The sum grew, approaching the figure he considered sufficient to fund the expedition.
With the financial matters settled, Alex began preparing for the expedition. His personal ship—a modified YT-1300 freighter, the "Wanderer"—had already undergone upgrades over the past few years, but further long-range travel required additional improvements.
The "Wanderer" sat on a private landing pad deep within the dock, surrounded by scaffolding and repair equipment. The ship had the characteristic YT-1300 shape—a round disk with a protruding cockpit—but numerous modifications had altered its original appearance.
He uploaded the project he had been working on for months in the "Star Architect" program into the dock's main computer. A three-dimensional model of the "Wanderer" appeared on the holographic projector, showing every detail of the planned changes. Blue lines indicated existing systems, red marked elements to be dismantled, and green represented new components. The model rotated slowly, displaying the ship from all angles.
"Attention all repair units," he announced over the dock's internal comms. "We are commencing additional modernization of the 'Wanderer' according to the 'Far Scout' project."
The droids immediately got to work. Their movements were precise and coordinated—each machine knew its task and performed it with mechanical accuracy. The YT-1300 was a popular model among smugglers precisely because of its modularity—the ship could be reconfigured for any task.
Over the years, Alex had already installed reinforced shields, improved engines, and additional weaponry. The standard YT-1300 configuration was designed for peaceful cargo transport, but life on the fringes of the galaxy demanded more serious protection.
Now, the droids methodically dismantled part of the cargo holds, freeing up space for new systems. Metal panels were carefully removed and stored—Alex didn't discard anything that might be useful in the future. The sounds of dismantling echoed through the spacious dock.
The first priority was installing additional fuel tanks—the expedition might be lengthy, and there were no refueling stations in unknown sectors. The modular design of the YT-1300 allowed for relatively easy reconfiguration of the internal space.
One of the cargo holds was completely converted for additional fuel storage. Cylindrical tanks made of a durable alloy were installed in special mounts, and a pipeline system connected them to the main engines. This nearly doubled the ship's range, which was critically important for exploring unknown regions.
The work continued day and night. Alex rarely left the dock, observing the modernization process and making adjustments to the original plan. The atmosphere of intense labor captivated him—it felt like preparing for a grand journey, for the realization of a lifelong dream.
Special attention was paid to stealth systems. Alex couldn't afford to use stygium crystals—their cost exceeded the entire expedition's budget, and obtaining them was practically impossible. These rare minerals were under the strictest imperial control and were used only in top-secret military projects.
But he installed the best cloaking field that could be bought on the black market. The system occupied a significant portion of the engineering section—massive generators surrounded by a complex network of energy conduits and control crystals.
The system was far from perfect—military scanners could easily penetrate such defenses. But it could hide the "Wanderer" effectively enough from civilian sensors and pirate ships. For an archaeological expedition, this should be sufficient.
The ship's armament also underwent modernization. The standard laser cannons of the YT-1300 had long been replaced by more powerful turbolasers installed in the dorsal and ventral turrets.
The most complex part of the modernization was the installation of a computational cluster in the main cargo hold. Alex had spent months designing this system, studying the technical specifications of various architectures and creating an optimal configuration for his needs. This was not the shoddy piece of equipment he had bought as a student for 50,000 credits. This was serious hardware.
The cluster occupied a third of the cargo space—a massive structure of processor blocks, cooling systems, and power modules. Each component was carefully selected to ensure maximum performance with minimal power consumption.
He personally upgraded each crystal block, installing additional memory and processing accelerators. This work required extreme precision—one misplaced light conduit could disable the entire system.
The cooling system was no less important. Powerful computational crystals generated a huge amount of heat, and without efficient cooling, they would quickly overheat. Alex installed a closed-loop liquid cooling system with redundant circuits in case of primary system failure.
"Installation of analytical programs complete," one of the repair droids reported a few days later. "System ready for testing."
Alex boarded the "Wanderer" and walked into the cargo hold. The familiar layout of the ship had changed—where simple cargo racks used to be, a complex structure of shimmering computational blocks now loomed.
The air in the hold was cool—the climate control system was working at full capacity, maintaining optimal temperature.
He activated the cluster and watched the indicators light up. Hundreds of small lights flickered on the panels, indicating that the system was booting up. The computational power of this structure surpassed the capabilities of some small research stations.
With the cluster, he could analyze discovered artifacts, decipher ancient texts, and simulate technological processes. Alex planned to load all available data on Rakatan civilization into the system to compare new findings with existing information.
The next stage was the installation of remote control systems. Alex purchased several portable devices capable of connecting to the cluster at long distances. These compact terminals would allow him to work with data without having to return to the ship each time.
The devices were the size of a standard datapad, but their capabilities far exceeded standard electronics. Each terminal contained a powerful transmitter and a holographic projector for displaying complex data.
The communication systems were also upgraded. New transmitters provided high channel throughput between the ship and the portable devices. Even in conditions of electromagnetic interference or atmospheric distortion, large volumes of information could be transmitted.
The remaining cargo space was filled with empty containers of various sizes—from small boxes for samples to large crates for major artifacts. Each container was equipped with a climate control system and protection against external influences.
Alex had prepared for various types of storage—hermetic chambers for organic samples, shielded boxes for radioactive materials, and special holders for fragile items. He didn't know what he would find in the ruins, so he prepared for all possibilities.
Alex also purchased a batch of reconnaissance droids—small, fast machines capable of exploring dangerous areas without risk to humans. These devices were the size of a human head but contained an astonishing amount of equipment.
Each droid was equipped with various types of scanners, high-resolution cameras, sample collectors, and even miniature tools for performing simple analyses. Their repulsorlift engines allowed them to operate in any environment—from outer space to underground tunnels.
Verena watched the events unfold with growing curiosity. She often appeared in the dock, studying the ongoing changes and asking questions about the purpose of the new systems. Alex answered evasively, not yet ready to reveal the details of his plan to her.
"Boss," she said one morning as Alex was checking the installation of new navigation equipment, "where are we going? Such preparations are needed for a serious expedition."
Alex froze, holding a complex navigation processor. He hadn't planned to take Verena with him—the expedition was too secret and potentially dangerous.
But how could he explain that without offending her? Verena was not just a hired pilot—over the year they had worked together, they had become true partners, trusting each other's lives in dangerous situations.
"It's... a personal matter," he said hesitantly, avoiding her gaze. "I might have to go alone."
Verena's face darkened. Her blue skin grew darker, and her lekku twitched nervously. Over their time together, Alex had learned to read these subtle changes in her appearance.
"Did I do something wrong?" she asked quietly, pain in her voice.
"No, of course not!" Alex replied hastily, finally meeting her gaze. "You're the best pilot I know. It's just... it might be dangerous."
"When has that ever stopped me?" Verena straightened up, determination in her voice. "We've been through a lot together. Why should it be different now?"
Alex looked at her and realized she was right. Over the past year, Verena had proven her loyalty countless times. She had earned his trust, and excluding her now would be unfair. Moreover, it would be foolish—her skills could prove critically important to the expedition's success.
Besides, he really needed to learn to trust someone. Years of living on Nar Shaddaa had taught him to rely only on himself, but serious research required a team.
"Alright," he said finally, putting down the navigation processor. "But this must remain between us. What we find could change a lot."
Verena's eyes lit up with curiosity—a characteristic trait of her species, always striving for new knowledge and experiences:
"What are we looking for?"
"Traces of an ancient civilization. Possibly the oldest in the galaxy."
Alex told her about the Rakatan artifacts, about Captain Kord's logs, about the expedition's plans. He spoke cautiously, not mentioning the most secret details, but giving enough information for her to understand the scale of the undertaking.
"This is incredible," she said when he finished. "Real research. I've always dreamed of something like this."
"Then get ready. In a week, we're heading to the coordinates Kord indicated."
On the last day before departure, Alex decided to visit Uncle Garrek. His uncle was working in his workshop, hunched over a disassembled protocol droid.
"Uncle," Alex said as he entered the familiar workshop.
Garrek looked up and smiled.
"Ah, Alex! How's the modernization going?"
"It's all ready. We're leaving tomorrow."
"Where are you headed?"
Alex hesitated. He couldn't tell his uncle the whole truth, but he didn't want to lie either. Garrek was the only relative he had left, and their relationship was built on mutual trust.
"Far sector. Archaeological research."
Garrek nodded, asking no further questions.
"Be careful on that crappy moon, Uncle," Alex said, hugging him.
"And you be careful on that crappy..." Garrek chuckled, "wherever you're flying."
They laughed. It was an old joke between them—the entire known galaxy seemed no less dangerous than Nar Shaddaa, just with different dangers.
"Keep an eye on the dock," Alex asked. "If anything happens..."
"Nothing will happen," Garrek said firmly. "You're a careful guy, and Verena is an excellent pilot. Come back with interesting findings."
Alex nodded and headed for the exit. At the door, he turned back and looked at his uncle one more time. He had already returned to working on the droid, but Alex could see that his hands were trembling slightly. Garrek was worried, though he tried not to show it.
Alex and Verena spent their last night before departure aboard the ship, checking systems and discussing plans. The atmosphere was solemn—they both understood they were embarking on a journey that could change their lives.
"Ready for departure?" Alex asked in the morning, taking his seat in the captain's chair.
"Ready, boss," Verena replied, starting the engines. "Course for the unknown."
Her hands danced across the control panel. The "Wanderer's" engines hummed softly, lifting the ship from the landing pad.
The "Wanderer" smoothly lifted off the landing pad and set course for the system's borders. Ahead of them lay the mysteries of an ancient civilization and answers to questions that had tormented Alex for years.