Corellia really is my lucky star.
At the auction venue, Max was practically vibrating. A grin broke across his face before he could stop it. He never would've guessed that the very first item on the list would be a crossguard lightsaber.
Rationally, Max knew a lightsaber wasn't some mythical "divine weapon" that could shatter heaven and earth. In his mind, it was an excellent close-quarters tool—nothing more than that. In wars between starfaring civilizations, the room for melee weapons was inherently limited.
Jedi and Sith favor lightsabers in most situations for a reason: they often operate like lone specialists, running recon, infiltration, ambushes, and decapitation strikes behind enemy lines. But on a conventional front, facing the massed firepower of a modern military? A lightsaber stops being impressive very quickly.
Back in 22 BBY, when the Republic tried to crush the Separatists and preserve unity, Mace Windu led a Jedi task force of over two hundred into the Geonosian arena, attempting to capture or eliminate Count Dooku. The result was an ambush by a droid army—near-total annihilation. More than two hundred Jedi died under blaster fire.
Still.
No matter how you slice it, lightsabers are cool.
From an emotional standpoint, what Star Wars fan doesn't love them? Max certainly did. Before and after arriving here, he'd dreamed of lightsaber duels.
If the first public lot was a lightsaber, then what was the "secret" headliner that would appear later as the finale? A Jedi holocron? A Sith holocron? Maybe even both—neatly paired?
So this is it. The universe dragged me into Star Wars because it wants me to be the protagonist.
The host stepped onto the stage. Max's blood surged. His anticipation spiked.
"The story begins with an encounter," the host proclaimed. "Our explorer was caught in hyperspace turbulence and forced to crash-land on an unknown, mysterious world. Communications were down. Navigation failed. In the alien night, the explorer believed he would be trapped forever."
"Then a miracle happened: a lightsaber ignited in the darkness, illuminating the path at his feet."
"When he walked over and picked it up, it went out again. But that sudden light ignited hope in his heart. He believed the Force was watching over him. He brought the lightsaber aboard, escaped the planet's gravity well, and kept repeating, 'The Force is with me,' before plunging back into hyperspace."
"And the Force did watch over him. When he emerged, he returned to known space. Later, when he tried to find that mysterious world again and investigate properly… he discovered that there was no record of the planet anywhere in his ship's data."
"This lightsaber is the one he carried back from that unknown world. After professional analysis with advanced instrumentation, we can confirm it is nearly four thousand years old. Perhaps it was once the personal weapon of a powerful ancient Jedi Master."
"A light of hope in a moment of crisis. A guardian blade that crossed time itself. Own it, and walk with the Force through the ages—protecting your family for ten thousand generations."
"An ancient Jedi Master's lightsaber. Starting bid: five thousand Republic credits. Minimum increment: five hundred. Bidding begins now!"
The moment the host finished, a bidder responded.
"Five thousand."
"Five thousand is on the board. Any higher?"
But the lightsaber didn't spark a frenzy. After the first bid, no one immediately jumped in.
"Five thousand once. Five thousand twice."
"Five thousand five hundred." Max raised his paddle.
"Six thousand." The first bidder reacted immediately, lifting his paddle like he intended to take it no matter what.
"Six thousand is on the board. Any higher? Six thousand once. Six thousand twice."
"Six thousand five hundred." Max raised again.
"Seven thousand." The first bidder raised again.
When Max pushed it up to nine thousand five hundred, the first bidder finally sensed something was off.
A rare ancient lightsaber shows up at a black-market auction… and from start to finish, only one person is competing with him?
That meant everyone else probably knew something was wrong with it.
In the end, the first bidder backed off.
"Nine thousand five hundred once. Nine thousand five hundred twice. Nine thousand five hundred—sold!"
Max won the first item of the night: an ancient crossguard lightsaber, for 9,500 credits.
"9,500 credits—less than five Westar-35s," Christopher muttered, barely containing his excitement as he did the math. "Sky, does this count as stealing a bargain?"
"Hard to say." Max curled his lip. "This lightsaber might be defective."
"Defective?"
"Yeah. Don't let the host's flowery story fool you. 'It ignited in the darkness,' and 'when he picked it up it went out'—there's a very good chance that means it lit once, then died… and never lit again."
"What?!" Christopher's hand twitched toward his belt on instinct. "That's a scam!"
"Calm down." Max's voice stayed flat. "Did he lie? He just didn't explain it clearly. This is a black-market auction, not a licensed one. You keep your eyes open, or you pay tuition."
"And one more thing." Max's expression tightened. "If I'm not mistaken, this lightsaber didn't come from some 'unknown mysterious planet' at all. It was picked up on the ancient battlefield of Malachor."
"Dank farrik!"
"Damn!"
"Son of a bantha!"
Christopher, Eldon, and Bazel all cursed at once. A lightsaber from Malachor wouldn't "walk with the Force through the ages" or "protect your family for ten thousand generations." If it didn't come with a curse that wiped out your bloodline, you should already consider yourself lucky.
"It's fine," Max said, shrugging it off with practiced calm. "We treat it like a gamble. Maybe it isn't cursed. Maybe it isn't broken. Maybe it's just been sitting for thousands of years and the power cell is dead."
"Power cell… dead?" Christopher blinked, like he'd misheard.
"I'm saying it might just be out of charge."
"A lightsaber… needs charge?" Christopher, Eldon, and Bazel traded looks. "So it's not… powered by the Force?"
"What did you think?" Max said, like it should've been obvious. "A lightsaber has a power source in the hilt. The Force doesn't replace engineering. It just lets certain people do things with the weapon that normal people can't."
That single clarification lit them up. They'd always imagined a lightsaber was "activated by the Force" the way a myth is activated by faith. They hadn't really internalized that, like a vibroblade or an electrostaff, it was still a tool with a real mechanism.
"So that means we can use one too?"
"Anyone can activate one," Max said. "Not everyone can use one safely, and even fewer can use one well. If we can restore this one, you can all try it—under supervision."
If this ancient crossguard lightsaber could be repaired, then Max intended to move "Malachor exploration" onto his near-term schedule.
Malachor—taboo ground for both Jedi and Sith—was one of the galaxy's most infamous cursed places. Since the Malachor disaster, few people went near it. On that ancient battlefield, relics left behind by Jedi and Sith were probably still scattered everywhere.
If he got lucky, he might even find a Jedi holocron or a Sith holocron.
Max wasn't superstitious. He planned to go bargain-hunting on Malachor anyway. Worst case, he'd counter "cursed nonsense" with "cursed nonsense"—repeat a calming mantra until his own nerves settled and call it a "ward."
He tested the idea silently in his head. Good. He still remembered it. Maybe training the Force really did sharpen memory.
At minimum, a lightsaber was a brutal breaching tool. Every additional lightsaber increased a Mandalorian's CQB options. And if the search for Force-sensitives went well, lightsabers could become far more than tools.
Cloud City reconstruction. Tibanna output expansion. Tibanna sales. Mandalorian force reorganization. Building a capital-ship arm. A Malachor expedition…
One item after another piled onto the calendar. The days ahead were going to be busy.
Max smiled.
Busy days meant possibilities.
.................
PS: "Malachor" is used here as an in-universe historical reference. Long ago, an ancient battle between Jedi and Sith ended with a catastrophic superweapon being unleashed from a Sith temple, turning the world into a dead wasteland and leaving echoes that still scare people off. Since then, "Malachor" has often been used as shorthand for a curse.