Location: Unknown planet with ruins
Time: 13 BBY
The ship emerged from hyperspace at the edge of a system that was marked only by a number on star charts. Three planets orbited an orange dwarf star, but only the middle one showed signs of once having life.
"The atmosphere is thin, but breathable," Alex said, studying the sensor readings. "Radiation levels are elevated, but not critically."
Verena silently studied the scanning data. Over a year of flying together, she had learned the ship inside and out, knew all its capabilities, but after the modernization, something felt unfamiliar.
"There's something there," she said quietly, pointing to the screen. "In the northern hemisphere. See those regular lines?"
Alex zoomed in on the image. Amidst chaotic mountain ranges and dried-up riverbeds, geometrically regular structures stood out clearly—too regular for natural formations. The scanners showed traces of metallic structures hidden beneath a layer of millennia-old dust.
"Ruins," he confirmed. "And judging by the size, it was a large city. Possibly the capital."
The ship cautiously entered the atmosphere. The air was dry and dusty. The planet's surface presented a bleak landscape of reddish rocks and sandy plains. What were once forests had turned into fields of dead trunks—black skeletons of trees reached for the sky with charred fingers, as if cursing their murderers. In places, some grass grew on and around them, but it was clearly struggling.
The wind swept across the dead land, raising whirlwinds of radioactive dust and carrying them towards the horizon.
Alex landed the ship on a flat area a kilometer from the ruins, choosing a spot with a good view and several escape routes. Before disembarking, they carefully checked their gear: military rifles with full ammunition, thermal grenades, scanners, emergency beacons, cloaking generators, and a portable shield generator—a gift from a grateful client.
"We don't know what might be there," Alex explained, checking the safety on his rifle. "The Ancients liked to leave unpleasant surprises for uninvited guests."
The ruins greeted them with an ominous silence. What were once majestic buildings were now melted husks. The architecture was elegant, with flowing lines and organic shapes—clearly not human, but unlike anything Alex had seen in the archives. The buildings seemed to grow from the earth, their walls curving like the petals of giant flowers, and the spires resembling crystalline formations.
"Orbital bombardment," Alex determined, studying the nature of the destruction. "Very intense. And judging by the radiation levels, something worse than turbolasers was used."
The scorch marks on the stone spoke of temperatures capable of vaporizing metal. Here and there, impact craters were visible—perfectly round holes burned through several floors. This wasn't just bombardment—it was methodical annihilation, wiping a civilization from the face of the planet.
After landing, Alex sent scout droids in all directions, which created a preliminary map of the area and assessed the risks.
In the center of the city, they discovered an anomaly—amidst the elegant ruins of local architecture, a low-lying structure of dark metal stood out. It looked alien, like a parasite on the body of the city. Its angular shapes sharply contrasted with the smooth lines of the surrounding buildings.
"This was built in a different style," Verena noted. "And from different materials. See how the metal absorbs light? This is not local technology."
"Possibly a military base," Alex realized. "The Rakata occupied this world and built an outpost here."
A couple of hours later, Alex and Verena reached the building on a grav-platform. Inside, a semi-darkness reigned. Portable lighting cast glares on walls covered with strange symbols. The signs looked aggressive—sharp angles, jagged lines, as if carved into the metal with claws, not tools. Unlike the elegant ruins outside, everything here exuded utilitarian harshness—sharp corners, oppressive ceilings, corridors more like cages.
The air inside was stale and heavy. The ventilation systems had long been inoperative, but the structure was built so solidly that the interior spaces remained almost untouched.
Alex stopped before a terminal with a crystalline structure. Despite millennia of desolation, the device pulsed faintly with an internal light, like an ancient heart still beating in a dead chest.
"Amazing! It's still working. I'll try to connect," he said, taking out his equipment.
The next half-day turned into an exhausting struggle with alien technology. Alex tried dozens of interfaces, combined protocols, and even attempted to physically modify the connectors. Several times it seemed like he was on the verge of success, but the system rejected all attempts to establish a connection, as if it had a will of its own.
"Damn it!" he cursed after another failure. "It's like trying to pick a lock with a fork."
Verena waited patiently, checking the perimeter from time to time. Local predators had begun to gather outside—mutated descendants of once-peaceful fauna. Radiation and something else, possibly biological weapons, had turned them into nightmarish creatures. First, single individuals appeared—the size of a small dog, with shiny chitinous armor and too many eyes. Then others joined them—larger, with claws as long as a hand and jaws capable of biting through metal.
"Alex," Verena called quietly, "we should hurry. We have spectators."
The breakthrough came unexpectedly. An old memory crystal reader, bought during his studies at KTI as an antique, suddenly responded to the terminal's signals. Alex couldn't believe it—early Republic technology turned out to be compatible with this ancient system.
"Contact!" he exclaimed. "But the connection is unstable, we need to copy everything we can."
Data flowed in a thin stream—damaged files, fragments of recordings, scraps of information. The database was severely damaged, possibly intentionally, during the outpost's final days. But even these crumbs were priceless—the first reliable information about a civilization that existed tens of thousands of years ago.
By evening, they returned to the ship with the first batch of data. Alex immediately connected the drives to the computational cluster, which occupied a third of the cargo hold—his own development, combining the best black market crystal processors into a single system of incredible power.
"This will take time," he warned, launching the recovery programs. "The data is highly fragmented."
In the following days, they methodically explored the city ruins, collecting artifacts of the local civilization. Elegant devices of unknown purpose, crystals with recordings, works of art—everything that could be of value to collectors and scientists.
"Look at this," Verena said, picking up a small figurine. "Such fine craftsmanship. Whoever they were, they had a developed art."
The figurine depicted a creature vaguely resembling a humanoid, but with extra limbs and an additional pair of eyes.
"Their technology," Alex added, packing a device resembling a musical instrument. "Some of these things are still emitting energy."
The instrument was made of a material resembling wood, but the scanners showed a complex internal structure of crystalline fibers. When touched, it produced melodious sounds that seemed familiar, though Alex was sure he was hearing them for the first time.
In the evenings, while the cluster processed data from the outpost, they sorted their findings and discussed what they had seen. The picture of the ancient civilization gradually formed from the mosaic of artifacts—a peaceful people who had reached great heights in art and science, suddenly confronted by ruthless conquerors.
"The picture is clear," Alex said, studying the area's radiation map and the outpost data. "The locals rebelled against the occupiers, captured the outpost. In response, they were simply destroyed along with the planet."
"But who were the occupiers?" Verena asked.
"Rakatan," Alex read from the screen. "The Infinite Empire. I encountered mentions in the KTI archives, and the data confirms what happened."
Fragmented records painted a grim picture. A race of conquerors, who used the Force to enslave entire civilizations. Cruelty elevated to the absolute, slavery as the basis of their economy, technologies built on suffering. Their ships were powered by the Dark Side, their cities built on the bones of conquered peoples.
"Ask what happened to them," suggested Verena.
The analytical program provided fragments of information: civil war, a mysterious disease, loss of connection to the Force, slave revolts across the galaxy. The Infinite Empire collapsed as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving behind only ruins and terrible legends.
"And that's all?" Verena asked, disappointed.
"The base is heavily damaged," Alex explained. "But there's something interesting – coordinates. A long-range communication station."
He brought up a star map with marked points on the screen. One was in the Unknown Regions, the other closer to the Core.
"In the KTI archives, I read about a race of ancient Builders," Alex said thoughtfully. "I hoped they were creators who brought civilization to the galaxy. But it turned out..."
"Conquerors and slave owners," Verena finished.
They spent a few more days on the planet, methodically collecting artifacts. Each item was carefully cataloged – someone would pay good money for authentic works of art from an extinct race. Collectors across the galaxy hunted for such rarities.
"Do you know what's the saddest part?" Verena said, packing another find. "We don't even know what they called themselves. The Rakata erased not only their cities, but also the memory of them."
Alex nodded. There wasn't a single readable inscription left in the ruins, not a single intact datapad. Only fragments of a once-great civilization and radioactive ash. Even their writing was lost – the symbols on the walls had melted from the heat of orbital bombardment.
On the seventh day of their work, what Alex had secretly feared from the beginning happened. The mutants, who had kept their distance until then, suddenly changed their behavior. Perhaps they were attracted by the smell, or they finally overcame their fear of strangers – but the result was the same: by evening, the ruins were swarming with creatures.
"Time to go," Alex said, watching through binoculars as dark shadows moved through the streets of the dead city. "There are too many of them."
They quickly gathered the remaining artifacts and loaded them onto the grav-platform. The portable shield generator hummed, creating a protective dome around the cargo. Alex checked the charge – it should be enough for a few hours.
The first mutants appeared when they were still in the center of the city. Human-sized creatures, covered in chitinous growths, with multiple eyes and clawed limbs. They moved quickly and silently, using the ruins as cover.
"Don't shoot unless necessary," Alex whispered. "The sound will attract the others."
But combat couldn't be avoided. As they passed through a narrow passage between two collapsed buildings, mutants attacked from several sides at once. Alex opened fire first, his blaster piercing the nearest creature. Verena shot with surgical precision, each shot hitting its mark.
"There are too many of them!" she shouted, reloading her weapon.
Indeed, for every mutant killed, two new ones appeared. They crawled out of every crack, as if the entire dead city had suddenly come to life. Some were the size of large dogs, others human-sized, and the largest reached the height of a Wookiee.
Alex activated the shield generator at full power. The energy barrier flashed with a bright blue light, repelling the attacking creatures. But the mutants were persistent – they circled the shield, looking for weak spots, scratching at it with their claws and fangs.
"The charge is dropping!" Alex shouted, looking at the indicator. "We need to get to the ship!"
The grav-platform moved forward, pushing through the crowds of mutants. The shield repelled them, but each collision consumed energy. Alex and Verena fired through the protective barrier, trying to thin the enemy ranks.
When they broke out of the city into open terrain, the situation only worsened. Here, mutants could attack from all sides, and their numbers seemed endless. The ground literally teemed with creatures – they crawled out of cracks in the rocks, from under debris, from caves in the hills.
"How many are here?!" Verena exclaimed, shooting at another wave of attackers.
"Thousands," Alex replied grimly. "Perhaps the entire planet has turned into one large hive."
The shield flickered, its power dropping with each passing minute. The mutants seemed to sense this and attacked with increasing ferocity. The largest individuals rammed the barrier with their entire bodies, while smaller ones tried to gnaw through it with their claws and teeth.
Alex switched his blaster to maximum power. Each shot now burned through the creatures, but the charge of the military blaster was depleting faster. Verena fired short bursts, trying not to waste ammunition.
"The ship!" Verena shouted, pointing forward.
Their vessel was visible a kilometer away, but the path to it was strewn with moving shadows. Mutants had surrounded the ship in a tight ring, as if understanding that it was the target of their prey.
Alex activated the emergency protocol. After a few seconds, the ship's automatic systems came to life. The turrets rotated, targeting the mutant clusters. The first volley illuminated the twilight with bright flashes.
The ship's heavy blasters were of a completely different caliber than hand-held weapons. Each shot mowed down entire groups of creatures, leaving clearings in their wake. Mutants flew to pieces, their chitinous armor unable to withstand a direct hit.
"Now that's more like it!" Alex exclaimed, watching the turrets methodically blast away the ship's surroundings. He had configured the system himself, but hadn't had a chance to test it.
The automation worked with cold efficiency. Sensors identified targets, the computer calculated trajectories, and the guns fired without missing. Within a minute, real clearings of charred corpses had formed around the ship.
But the mutants did not retreat. New waves of creatures rolled in from the depths of the continent, as if the entire planet had risen against the intruders. Some individuals were the size of a small speeder, their chitinous shells gleaming in the light of the shots.
The grav-platform approached the ship, weaving between craters and corpses. Alex and Verena continued to fire back, their movements becoming automatic – aim, shoot, reload, repeat.
"Cargo bay!" Alex shouted as they flew up to the ship.
The ramp was already lowering. They dragged the platform with the artifacts inside, and Alex immediately activated the lift. The ramp began to close, but a few mutants managed to break through.
Verena shot the closest one, Alex finished off the second. The shots illuminated the cargo bay, scattering the creatures' remains on the walls.
"Let's go!" Alex shouted, rushing to the cockpit.
The engines roared, and the ship lifted off the ground. Through the portholes, they could see millions of mutants surrounding their landing site. The turrets continued to fire, mowing down hordes of creatures until the ship ascended high enough.
Alex watched the carnage with a mixture of horror and exhilaration. He had never seen such a number of hostile beings, even in his worst nightmares. The entire surface of the planet seemed alive, covered in a moving carpet of chitin and claws.
"How many were there?" Verena asked, breathing heavily.
"Millions," Alex replied, transferring the ship to orbit. "Perhaps it wasn't a planet, but one giant hive."
As the ship left the orbit of the dead world, the holds were packed with crates of artifacts, and the computers stored petabytes of fragmented data about the Infinite Empire. But the main trophy was the memories of a civilization that had once flourished under that orange sun.
"Two coordinates," Alex said thoughtfully, looking at the star map. "Maybe we'll find more answers there."
"Or more questions," Verena added.
As they flew in hyperspace towards one of the coordinates, they sat in the mess hall with a bottle of good Corellian whiskey. The adrenaline from the fight hadn't yet worn off, their hands were slightly trembling, and the sound of gunfire still rang in their ears.
"You know," Alex said, taking a sip, "I have a feeling we were looting a graveyard. Though it's not the worst thing I've done." He joked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Maybe," Verena agreed. "But what's the difference? They've been dead for a long time, their souls have long since joined the Force..."
"You believe that? Believe we're going to the Force?" Alex asked.
"I want to believe."
Alex nodded. He wanted to believe too.
"Tell me about yourself," Verena suddenly asked. "All this time, you've told me almost nothing about your past."
Alex took another sip of whiskey, gathering his thoughts. The alcohol loosened his tongue, and memories he usually kept locked away surfaced. Perhaps the recent brush with death had made him reconsider his attitude towards secrecy.
"There's not much to tell," he began slowly. "I'm from Corellia, studied at the Corellian Technological Institute. Specializations – space engineering and archaeotechnology. An ordinary life..."
He fell silent, swirling the glass in his hands. The stars outside the porthole were reflected in the amber liquid.
"Until the end of the Clone Wars," he continued more quietly. "My parents lived near the spaceport. My father repaired ships, my mother worked as a dispatcher in cargo transport. An ordinary family. But at the end of the war... the Separatists launched a terrorist raid on Corellia. They wanted to steal some data from the CEC, but as a diversion, they attacked residential areas near the spaceport. You must remember it from the news."
Verena listened silently, feeling the pain in his voice. She remembered those reports – one of the Confederacy's last acts of desperation before capitulation.
"It was at night," Alex took a large gulp. "Their house was hit by a turbolaser barrage. Only melted debris remained of the building."
"I'm so sorry," Verena said softly.
He stood up and walked to the porthole, looking at the hyperspace vortices.
"And then a couple more unpleasant things happened. The person I worked for was killed, and I had to shoot too. Bad memories. That's why I left them. I found a place... on Nar Shaddaa."
"The smuggler's moon," Verena nodded.
"On Nar Shaddaa, I got used to all sorts of things," Alex continued. "I'm not as soft as I used to be now. But you know, a lot of bad things have happened over the years, but those events affect me the most. The death of my parents, the collapse of all future plans..."
The words seemed to run out, and they simply stood and watched the flashes of hyperspace.
He turned to Verena, and his gaze lingered on her face for a moment. In the soft light of the mess hall, she looked particularly beautiful – delicate features, expressive eyes, graceful movements. She was very much like a human, with a very understandable facial expression, mimicry... He wondered if this wasn't a coincidence, but now was not the time to think about it. Alex allowed himself a few seconds to simply admire her, but then he hastily pushed those thoughts away. There were only business relations between them, and he didn't want to complicate them.
"Sorry," he said, returning to the table. "I didn't mean to burden you with my problems."
"Don't apologize," Verena reached out and touched his hand. Her fingers were warm and surprisingly gentle for a sentient being who had just been shooting mutants.
They clinked glasses, and there was more intimacy in that gesture than in many words. Two sentients, who had lost much in the past and found each other among the stars.
They looked at each other, the pause stretched, and both felt somehow embarrassed.
"Do you know what surprises me most about these Rakata?" Verena changed the subject, shifting her gaze to the holographic map of their empire on the tablet.
"What exactly?"
"They ruled for millennia. They seemed invincible. And yet they fell. I wonder if the same will happen to our civilization?"
Alex pondered. The Galactic Empire also seemed unshakable, but history shows that everything eventually collapses when it loses its healthy will to live. Especially if you know where to strike.
"Sooner than you think," he said. "The Empire is doomed."
There was a hidden confidence in his words, as if he knew something he wasn't saying. But Verena didn't press him. Everyone had their secrets.
They finished the whiskey, discussing plans for the coming months. Visit the two coordinates, then deliver the cargo of artifacts to the buyers, and analyze and catalog the Rakata technology data. New worlds and new mysteries awaited them.
When Verena went to sleep, Alex remained in the mess hall, looking at hyperspace. The conversation about the past had stirred up old wounds, but strangely, he felt better. For the first time in years, he had told someone about his life.
Perhaps among the cold stars and dead worlds, he had finally found another sentient who understood him.