Chapter 72: Ashes in the Void

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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Jake P.O.V. :

After all the excitement surrounding the history of this station and dealing with the various potential dangers lurking onboard, We finally gave the order for Tarek to bring the Stellar Envoy back to dock. But despite the station being mostly cleared out, we didn’t immediately let them disembark. 'Caution first'. Even though the worst of the threats had been neutralized, We weren't about to take any chances.

Those of us who had already been on the station—Rina, Kado, Mira, Davik, and myself—returned to the Envoy for some much-needed rest. Technically speaking, it had been an entire day, and everyone was running on low power, myself included.

But before we could truly relax, I made sure we had ample security in place. I wasn’t about to let our guard down just because we were exhausted. The Skew droids and Nick droids remained on site to continue scouting and patrolling duty across the station. Even though we had eliminated immediate threats, I wanted to be absolutely certain that there weren’t any hidden dangers waiting to ambush us.

Especially because Anakin was excited to explore the station.

And I couldn’t blame him. Every other adventure we’d been on had either ended in a hasty retreat, a firefight, or a situation where 'safe exploration' was completely out of the question. But this time? This time, we actually had the opportunity to take things slow. We could actually investigate rather than just reacting to whatever osik was being thrown our way.

I could already imagine it—giving Anakin a tour of some of the mechanical research conducted here. I wasn’t really worried about whether he would fully understand the details or not. The kid was sharp, and honestly? I was pretty sure we’d have fun regardless. Even if most of my explanations went over his head, I could see him fascinated just by being surrounded by so much tech.

Lying down in my bunk, I tried to settle in for some much-needed sleep, but my mind was already jumping ahead to tomorrow’s errands.

First thing on my list? Resuming my examinations of the giant machine.

Now that the immediate danger was over, I could afford to really dig into its systems without interruption. I still needed to determine just how much control I could wrest from it and, of course, continue working on reprogramming the security droids.

That was going to be a major task.

Reprogramming was one thing, but bringing them up to my standards was another. I was considering the idea of upgrading them to match the specifications of my Nick and Skew droids, but that was where the dilemma lay.

The Nick and Skew droids were already leagues beyond some of the specialized models available on the market. And I would know—because comparing my tech to mainstream models was something I did for fun.

And every time I did, I came to the same conclusion: I was ahead of the game. And I very much like that conclusion to continue for a long time.

The question was whether it was worth the effort to bring the station’s security droids up to that level. If I could do it efficiently, then fine. But if it was going to be a massive overhaul, it might just be easier to scrap them for parts and use the materials for something actually useful.

That was a problem for tomorrow-Jake.

For now? Sleep. Because if I didn’t get some proper rest, none of my plans were going to happen at full efficiency.

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I can confidently say that my sleep was a well-rested one. Solving immediate dangers really works wonders on the psyche. There’s just something about knowing that nothing is trying to kill you that helps you actually relax.

I made my way to the common area, already craving a good cup of caffa and a hearty breakfast to start the day. It wasn’t long before I was greeted by the others, who were either already eating or just arriving at the same time as me.

With everyone gathered, it only made sense that breakfast turned into an impromptu mission briefing.

We needed to finalize what we were doing today. The station still had plenty left to be explored, and there were some systems we wanted to wipe and replace to cement our control over the station’s operations. That included clearing out any trace of old ownership and making sure we wouldn’t have any unwanted surprises in the future.

One of the bigger priorities was sending a report to the client about the hyperspace anomaly. Since we’d determined it wasn’t going to be an issue anymore, we needed to make sure they were informed. But the real trick is in making sure the report was as vague and boring as possible. We didn’t want them getting curious about the station, and the best way to discourage prying eyes was to make the whole thing sound as dull and unremarkable as possible.

And then there was the one thing I hadn’t considered—but in hindsight, should have.

The bodies.

It wasn’t exactly something I liked thinking about, but there were corpses on this station. Some of them were very old, and others… weren’t. A decision needed to be made about what to do with them, and after a brief discussion, the majority vote was to give them proper funerals, a decision I completely agree with, instead of just dumping them out of the airlock - which was the other choice that was considered.

Once that was settled, we circled back to another key objective: reprogramming the security droids. I already had my work cut out for me on that front, but I wasn’t going to let the station’s former defenses operate under anything but our authority.

Anything else that needed doing would be discussed after we handled the immediate priorities. But for now, it was time to eat and prepare for another busy day.

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Breakfast, once again, was something of a feast thanks to Shmi, and I made sure to praise her efforts—because, quite frankly, she deserved it. Not that I was just saying that to be polite. No, after repeated and catastrophic failures in the art of cooking, I had to accept the hard truth: my skills in the kitchen were downright atrocious. It didn’t help that Mira and Davik never missed a chance to bring up my attempts at cooking, much to the amusement of everyone else at the table.

But hey, at least I had the decency to know my limitations. Some things just weren’t meant to be.

We didn’t rush through breakfast. We actually enjoyed it, which, after the last few days, was something I wasn’t going to take for granted. The galley felt lively—more so than usual. Maybe it was the fact that, for once, we weren’t eating in shifts between firefights, sabotage runs, or frantic hyperspace jumps.

Across the table, Rina and Mira were in deep conversation with Shmi, who had Anakin settled comfortably on her lap, feeding him as they talked. If I had to guess, they were probably discussing ways to make the station more livable. Rina had already mentioned that we should make use of what we had here instead of treating this place as just another job site, and honestly? She had a point.

Meanwhile, Davik had taken it upon himself to regale Arlos and Tarek with his version of what we’d found in the station’s historical logs. And I say his version because, true to form, Davik never told a story without adding some dramatic flair.

It was ridiculous.

It was exaggerated.

And it was downright entertaining.

Kado and I, of course, couldn’t help but add our own input—because what were a few wild conspiracy theories between friends? Turns out, Arlos had a thing for them, and considering his usual straight-laced demeanor, that was a surprise I wasn’t prepared for.

But the real star of the show? Tarek’s reactions.

The man had an expression for everything Davik threw at him. Suspicion, intrigue, exasperation—it was like watching a holo-drama unfold in real-time, and honestly? I was here for it.

Eventually, though, we had to wrap things up. As much as I would’ve liked to kick back and keep the conversation going, we had tasks to do.

And given how breakfast had stretched past an hour, we were already behind schedule.

Time to get to work.

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First things first—before anything else, before claiming the station, before even thinking about reprogramming security droids or wiping logs—we had to deal with the bodies. A station full of corpses wasn’t just a logistical issue; it was a moral one. These weren’t just random casualties or forgotten wreckage from some distant war. They were people.

And people deserved a proper sendoff.

There were a lot of funeral rites across the galaxy, each depending on the species, culture, and belief system. But the vast majority of them required being planet-side. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option for us. Not with this many bodies. The Stellar Envoy could only carry so many at once, and multiple trips weren’t just impractical—It screams 'hey pirates, ambush me here.' levels of stupid.

That left us with two options: either we did what most spacers did—jettison the bodies into the void—or we found a better way.

I wasn’t thrilled about the first option. Yeah, it was a common practice, but something about it always felt… unceremonious. Unfinished. Just throwing someone out an airlock into the black? It was a practical method, sure, but it lacked finality. These people had been left here for who knew how long; they deserved more than becoming floating debris.

That was when a memory hit me—one from back home.

A funeral scene from an old movie. A blue guy with a prominent head crest, a badass arrow controlled by whistles, and a sendoff that felt like something worthy of remembrance. Cremation, but with meaning. With respect. The way the glowing ashes floated through the air, like they were carrying his soul to the next part of the journey… that was something we could replicate.

And we would.

I pitched the idea to the crew, and to my relief, they all agreed.

“That’s a lot more respectful than spacing them,” Mira remarked, nodding approvingly.

Davik, ever the realist, shrugged. “Most people in deep space don’t get that kind of luxury. But since we have the means, might as well give them something proper.”

We did have the means. This station had an incineration room.

Yeah. An incineration room.

If my expression at learning that fact was anything like the others’, then I wasn’t alone in my what-the-kriff moment. The only reason a place like this would have one was either for waste disposal or to cover something up. Given what we knew about this station’s history, either was possible. But at least now, it had a useful purpose.

While the others focused on moving the bodies, I got to work.

If we wanted to make this funeral more than just a standard cremation, we needed to control how the ashes dispersed. I had a solution for that. Magnetic fields.

I had already built several EMP devices, and recalibrating them to generate a precise magnetic wave was an easy enough modification. The idea was simple: a directed field would keep the ashes from scattering too quickly or extinguishing too fast, letting them drift through the air just long enough to mimic that slow, meaningful ascent.

By the time I had everything configured, the others were already in place, waiting for me to begin. The bodies had been arranged with as much care as possible, and for once, no one was talking. No jokes. No side comments. Just quiet focus.

With Davik assisting, I installed the recalibrated devices around the incinerator, adjusting the output and making sure the magnetic field would hold. The last thing we wanted was for things to go wrong mid-process. Once we were sure everything was stable, we stepped back.

The room was silent.

Then we began.

One by one, the bodies were given their last rites—different words spoken for different people, depending on what information we had about them. Some species had specific sendoffs, and we honored those where we could. Others, we simply wished peace for their next journey.

Then, the incinerator was activated.

Flames engulfed the bodies, turning them to ash. But instead of dispersing immediately, the controlled magnetic field held the glowing embers aloft, letting them drift in slow, steady currents. It was haunting. Beautiful, in a solemn way. And for the first time since we stepped foot on this station, it felt like the people here were finally being laid to rest.

One by one, the embers faded, until nothing remained.

The air felt heavier afterward, but not in a bad way. More like… closure.

This station still held it's secrets. Still had work to be done. But at least now, the dead weren’t forgotten.

And that was something.