Journal Entry: 04.12.24 – Navi Topaz
As the Mayhem and Chaos slipped into the shadow of Pandemonium, our derelict refinery in the Shrike’s Maw system, Kir Tessa’s voice echoed through the ship, “Alright, eyes sharp. This place can be a nest of surprises.”
Luap Outback and I were first to disembark, our boots clanging on the metal deck. “Let’s sweep this place top to bottom. Last time, we nearly lost a toe to those rusted droids,” I reminded him, checking my blaster.
Room by room, we scoured the refinery. The beam of my flashlight cut through the darkness, revealing the remnants of a forgotten era: rusted tools, collapsed beams, and the thick dust of ages. Luap muttered under his breath, recounting every potential hazard. “Empty… empty… critter droppings here… watch your step…”
Meanwhile, Kir coordinated from the Mayhem. “Luap, Navi, status?” he radioed in every few minutes, his tone a mix of command and concern.
“All clear, Captain. This place is as dead as my love life,” Luap quipped over the comms, his voice echoing in the hollow chambers.
Back at the ships, Tam Lantra and Nyar Jetta began the delicate task of unloading the ore. “Steady, steady,” Tam directed, guiding Nyar as he operated the tractor beam. The ore chunks floated out, glinting like stars against the backdrop of the refinery.
Tav Skytte and Werdna Cutlass were busy reviving the refinery’s heart. “Power’s up… systems are… ancient,” Werdna grumbled, fingers flying over the dusty control panel.
“Got the main furnace online,” Tav called out, a note of triumph in his voice as the machines groaned to life. “This place has more quirks than a Jawa flea market.”
As Luap and I completed our sweep, we regrouped with the others at the processing chamber. “Area’s secured. No mynocks, no droids, no booby traps. Just a whole lot of nothing,” I reported.
Kir nodded, satisfied. “Good work. Let’s get to processing this haul. Nyar, Tam, you’re on loading duty. Tav, Werdna, keep those machines humming. Luap, keep a lookout. Navi, help where you can.”
The refinery awakened under our hands. Nyar and Tam fed the ore into the processor, their movements synchronized. “Never thought I’d be a miner,” Nyar mused, a small smile on his face.
“Life’s full of surprises,” Tam replied, wiping sweat from his brow, a death stick hanging from his mouth.
I bounced between tasks, lending a hand where needed. The sound of machinery, the heat from the furnaces, and our crew’s voices created a symphony of industry.
Luap stayed vigilant, eyes glued to the monitors. “All quiet outside. Too quiet,” he muttered, always the skeptic.
Tav and Werdna monitored the refinery’s systems, adjusting settings, fixing jams. “This old girl’s still got some life in her,” Tav said, patting a humming console.
As the first batch of refined ore emerged, shining and ready for market, Kir let out a low whistle. “That’s the sound of credits,” he said, examining the gleaming metal.
“We’ll be done in no time,” Tav estimated, checking the readouts. “This batch is top quality.”
“Good, because I don’t fancy sleeping in this ghost factory any longer than necessary,” Luap muttered, still scanning the monitors.
Kir joined Tav and Werdna at the control panel. “How’s the old furnace holding up? Last time it was more temperamental than a rancor in heat.”
Werdna chuckled, wiping his oily hands on a rag. “She’s holding, Captain. A few creaks and groans, but she’s processing the ore like a champ.”
Nyar, unloading another chunk of ore, called over, “This refinery… it’s got history, huh?” His voice held a mix of awe and curiosity.
“More stories than you can imagine,” Kir replied, his gaze drifting to the aged walls. “This place was a lifeline during the early Rebellion days.”
Tam, joining the conversation, added, “Yeah, and now it’s our little secret. Beats getting our pockets picked by those greedy port authorities.”
Tav pointed to a gauge on the panel. “Look at that purity reading. We’ll get a good price for this. Maybe even enough to upgrade the Chaos’s shields.”
“That would be the day,” Luap said, a grin spreading across his face. “I might actually start feeling safe in that tin can.”
Kir leaned back, arms crossed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. First, we finish the job, then we celebrate our riches.”
The work was progressing smoothly until a sudden grinding noise echoed through the refinery. The crew fell silent as the primary ore separator, crucial for dividing the raw ore into its valuable components, shuddered to a halt.
“Navi! The separator’s jammed,” Tav exclaimed, rushing over to the machine. Werdna was right behind him, toolkit in hand. “Looks like the centrifugal intake valve is shot. It’s essential for spinning the ore at high speeds for separation.”
Kir joined them, peering into the machine’s innards. “How long to fix it?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
Werdna assessed the situation, “A couple of hours, maybe more. We need to dismantle this section to reach the valve.”
Tav nodded in agreement. “It’s a tricky job, but we can manage. The separator is key to refining the ore to its highest grade.”
Kir interjected, “Do it. We can’t afford half-measures. Navi, Tam, give them a hand if needed.”
Nyar Jetta, seeking a moment of peace amid the chaos, found a secluded spot in the refinery. He carefully laid out a small, worn cloth — a relic from his Jedi days — and sat cross-legged upon it. Closing his eyes, he began a series of deep, measured breaths, centering himself in the Force. His meditation was a practice from his past, a way to connect with his Jedi roots and find clarity amid uncertainty.
Luap Outback, meanwhile, was all business, his mind racing with potential threats. He double-checked the security feeds, ensuring every corner of Pandemonium was under surveillance. “Can’t let our guard down, not even for a second,” he muttered to himself, setting up motion sensors at key entry points. He methodically loaded his blaster, feeling the familiar weight of responsibility on his shoulders. Ensuring the safety of the crew and the refinery was his top priority, and he wasn’t about to let anything slip past his watchful gaze.
The separator’s breakdown was a hiccup, but it wasn’t going to slow us down. The crew sprang into action, each playing their part with skill and determination. .
Navi Topaz,
First Mate of the SMC Mayhem
