Chapter 58: Takedown and Aftermath

Disclaimer: Star Wars and all of it's Intellectual Properties is owned by George Lucas and Walt Disney, This fictional work and all of it's original characters are however mine.

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MULTI POV CHAPTER

Kado's P.O.V. :

The dust was settling, figuratively and literally, as the operation at the slaver-syndicate meeting point came to its decisive end. The whole assault had been smoother than even Davik could’ve planned, and knowing him, that was saying something. Every detail had been accounted for, every contingency covered, and the result was an overwhelming show of force that shattered the morale of both the slavers and the syndicate scum they were dealing with.

The sight of us advancing—our blaster-resistant armor catching the light, Jake’s upgraded droids cutting an imposing figure with their reinforced plating and energy shields—was enough to send some of them scrambling for cover before the first shot was even fired. Mira’s precision from her vantage point took care of anyone trying to rally, and Jake...well, Jake was a spectacle all on his own.

I’d seen his new gauntlets in action during training, but seeing them in a real fight was something else. The way he used them to mimic Jedi abilities, freezing targets in place or yanking weapons from their hands, was enough to leave most of the opposition wide-eyed in terror. It wasn’t just effective; it was demoralizing. And that was the point.

As the skirmish came to an end, I couldn’t help but imagine what would happen if Jake decided to take his tinkering one step further—if he tried to create something that mimicked a lightsaber. The thought sent a chill down my spine. Sure, it’d be impressive, but it’d also be a one-way ticket to trouble. The Jedi didn’t take kindly to anyone playing at their level, and while we were good, we weren’t that good. Even with all our toys and tactics, a Jedi—or worse, multiple Jedi—would run through us like a vibroblade through a ration pack.

I made a mental note to bring this up at the next crew meeting. Jake’s inventive streak was one of our greatest assets, but it needed a leash before it got us into more trouble than we could handle.

For now, though, we had work to do. The immediate aftermath of the battle was always chaotic, but Davik’s experience kept it orderly. The stunned and knocked-out slavers and syndicate members were collected and lined up in neat rows, their hands secured with binders. I made sure to double-check every restraint—no repeat of our first attempt at this sort of operation, where a not-so-secure thug nearly turned the tables on us.

With the prisoners secured, we could turn to the next step: figuring out where to deliver them. That was going to be Rina and Mira’s job—finding a local authority that wasn’t rotten to the core. On worlds like this, the odds weren’t exactly in our favor, but there had to be someone trustworthy. If not, we’d figure out another way.

“Davik, you’re handling the prisoners, right?” I asked as I stepped up to him. He gave a curt nod, already barking orders to the droids to keep watch over the captured.

“Good,” I said. “I’ll take Jake and Mira to start looting the place.”

Davik grunted in acknowledgment, his attention already back on the task at hand.

Jake was waiting near the edge of the encampment, his Nick droids flanking him. Mira joined us as we moved into what remained of the meeting area. The chaos of the battle had left the place in disarray—overturned crates, scattered datapads, and abandoned equipment littered the ground.

“Let’s see what they were dealing in,” I said, stepping over a broken blaster rifle.

Jake, of course, was already scanning the area with one of his custom devices, a handheld scanner that could identify valuable tech and materials at a glance.

“Power cells, durasteel plating...oh, hello,” he muttered, crouching to examine a crate. He pried it open with a vibroblade, revealing a stash of thermal detonators. “Looks like someone was planning to make a statement.”

Mira snorted, keeping her blaster at the ready as she scanned the perimeter. “Not anymore.”

We continued combing through the site, cataloging anything worth taking. There were credits, naturally—a fair amount, judging by the weight of the strongboxes we found—but also weapons, spice, and some high-grade slicing equipment. The syndicate had been preparing for more than just a deal.

“This is going to take a few trips,” I said, gesturing to the growing pile of loot.

Jake smirked. “Good thing we’ve got the Nick droids. They’re better at heavy lifting than I am.”

“Not saying much,” Mira quipped, earning a mock-offended look from Jake.

Despite the banter, the work was methodical. By the time we were done, the area was stripped of anything valuable or dangerous, leaving the syndicate and slavers with nothing but binders and regrets.

It was a good day’s work, but it wasn’t over yet. We still had to get these prisoners to the authorities—and hope that those authorities weren’t worse than the ones we’d just taken down.

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Arlos' P.O.V. :

The camp was quiet now, save for the hum of the droids’ power cores and the occasional groan from the binders as the prisoners shifted uncomfortably. Sir Tarek and I had taken up positions to help watch over the slavers and syndicate scum alongside Sir Davik, who had the Skew droids stationed in a precise defensive perimeter. The droids, naturally, stood vigilant, their photoreceptors scanning for any hint of trouble. It left us organics with little to do but keep watch and chat.

Sir Tarek, standing with his blaster rifle slung casually across his chest, leaned toward me with a sly grin. “So, Arlos,” he began, his tone conspiratorial, “how many of these slimy karking slavers did you take down today?”

I tilted my head, pretending to mull it over. I already knew the number, but it wouldn’t hurt to make him wait for a moment. “A dozen,” I said finally, keeping my tone neutral. “Seven of those were because they were too busy trying to take down the droids to notice me sneaking up on them.”

Tarek’s grin faltered for a split second, replaced by a look of exaggerated defeat. “A dozen?” he repeated, dragging the word out. “Stars above, Arlos, you’re making the rest of us look bad.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, biting back a smirk. “And you, Sir Tarek? How many?”

His defeated look vanished instantly, replaced by a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Oh, well, let me tell you,” he said, puffing out his chest. “Eighty.”

I blinked, forcing myself not to laugh. “Eighty?” I repeated, my tone carefully balanced between disbelief and mock awe.

“Oh, yes, eighty,” Tarek said with a flourish, waving a hand as if the number was entirely reasonable. “It was a sight to behold, Arlos. I was practically dancing through the battlefield, blaster bolts flying past me like I was wearing beskar. One thug came at me with a vibroblade—poor fool didn’t know what he was getting into. I disarmed him with a single shot to his weapon, then hit him with a roundhouse kick that sent him flying into two of his buddies. They went down like a stack of sabacc cards.”

I nodded along, doing my best to look impressed. “And the rest?”

Tarek leaned in, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. “Ah, the rest were no match for my piloting skills, Arlos. You see, I didn’t just fight on the ground. Oh, no. I took the Stellar Envoy into a low hover and used the laser turrets to scatter them like womp rats in a sandstorm. They didn’t stand a chance.”

It was all I could do to keep a straight face. I remembered the battle perfectly well, and none of that had happened. But I wasn’t about to ruin Tarek’s fun. Instead, I nodded eagerly, my eyes wide with feigned amazement. “Stars, Sir Tarek,” I said, injecting as much excitement into my voice as I could muster. “That’s incredible. You’re like a one-man army.”

Tarek beamed, clearly pleased with himself. “Well, you know,” he said, trying and failing to sound modest, “it’s all in a day’s work. Someone’s got to keep the galaxy safe from scum like this.”

I suppressed a chuckle, glancing over at the prisoners, who were too busy glaring at the droids to pay attention to Tarek’s tall tales. “They’re lucky they didn’t run into you sooner,” I said.

Tarek nodded sagely. “Indeed. But let’s not let this get to my head, Arlos. After all, it’s a team effort.”

“Of course, Sir Tarek,” I said, giving him a grin. “A team effort.”

As Tarek launched into another embellished story—this one involving a thermal detonator and a dramatic escape—I settled into my position, letting his voice fade into the background. Humor was something I’d learned to appreciate in the years since I’d been freed. It was a shield, a way to keep the darkness of the galaxy at bay. And if letting Tarek tell his stories brought him joy, then who was I to ruin it?

Besides, his stories weren’t entirely useless. If nothing else, they made the time pass faster. And out here, in the middle of nowhere, with danger always lurking just beyond the horizon, that was no small thing.

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Jake's P.O.V. :

The Nick droids had already started ferrying our “recovered assets” onto one of the speeders for transport back to the Stellar Envoy. I instructed them to prioritize anything reusable or legally sellable, while the rest would get logged for later sorting. It was hard not to scoff at the ragtag group of thugs we’d taken down—these wannabe syndicate players were barely a step above gutter rats. I found myself wondering aloud, “What happens next here?”

Kado raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, probably thinking I was talking to myself again. Honestly, I half was. If we vacated the area after this cleanup, what were the odds some other lowlife gang would move in? It might be worth a conversation in our next crew meeting—planning for what came after we broke these sorts of operations. Were we just kicking over anthills for the sake of it, or could we make these takedowns stick?

The Nick droids finished their rounds, their joints hissing quietly as they stacked crates on the speeder. With their enhanced scanners, they didn’t even miss the concealed stashes hidden in makeshift floor panels. Efficient little scrappers, and when they delivered, they did it with a precision that’d make the Trade Federation jealous.

Meanwhile, Mira pinged us over the comms. She’d tracked down a non-corrupt authority to handle the arrests, which, frankly, felt like finding a kyber crystal in a sand dune. “Good work, Mira,” I replied, masking my surprise. “Let us know when they’re inbound. We’re wrapping up here.”

I leaned against one of the crates, crossing my arms as I watched the last of the prisoners squirm under Arlos and Tarek’s watchful eyes. “You know,” I mused, “this syndicate thinks they’re big-time, but all they’ve got are blasters, bruisers, and bad decisions. If we took their measure as ‘serious criminals,’ they’d be laughed off Coruscant.”

Kado grunted in agreement while helping lift the last crate. “Still, they’re dangerous enough to the people they prey on. Don’t underestimate desperation.”

He had a point. Even now, my mind was buzzing with what might happen if we didn’t leave a lasting impression. Would someone else fill the void? Or maybe, just maybe, we’d made a loud enough statement to keep the dust from settling too quickly.

The Nick droids returned, reporting their cargo was secured on the Envoy. Mira sent word that the authorities were on their way, ensuring we’d have time to clear out before they arrived. Satisfied the prisoners were doubly secured—no repeat performances from any slippery types—we packed up.

“Alright,” I said, taking a final glance at the dismantled camp and the bound prisoners. “Back to the Envoy. We’ve still got folks to look after.”

As the Stellar Envoy came into view, I couldn't help but feel the weight of what lay ahead. Saving people was one thing; figuring out the next steps for them was something else entirely.