Chapter IV
The holoprojector's glow pulsed softly, casting shifting blue light across the dark walls of Serina's war chamber. The schematics of the Rakatan factory sprawled before her, an intricate and alien lattice of power conduits, manufacturing bays, and ancient control systems. The factory was awake—partially, at least. It had begun to breathe again, but its lungs were still filling, its heart still weak.Serina stood before the display, arms folded, her mind an ever-moving current of calculation. Across the table, Voss and Miren watched her carefully, both aware that every piece of information they provided was being weighed, measured, and dissected within her mind before she even responded.
Miren, ever the pragmatist, was the first to break the silence.
"Lady Calis," she began, adjusting the controls on the holoprojector. The display shifted, highlighting three primary sectors of the operational floors. "We've confirmed that the factory is capable of producing three categories of war assets, even in its current incomplete state. However..."
She hesitated.
Serina's gaze flicked to her. "However?"
Miren exhaled slightly. "Production is going to be excruciatingly slow. Even with what little we've restored, we estimate it will take an immense amount of effort and resources to even get the factory to twenty-five percent efficiency. Right now, we're operating at... maybe five percent."
Serina's fingers tapped lightly against the obsidian table, her expression unreadable.
"Elaborate," she ordered.
Voss took over now, stepping forward and zooming in on the first production category. The holoprojector shifted, displaying the skeletal remains of ancient, long-dormant assembly lines.
"The first sector we've brought online is dedicated to war droids. The Rakatan factory was clearly designed to produce autonomous combat units, though the exact designs appear to be... flexible." He glanced at Serina, as if choosing his next words carefully. "It seems that the droids built here are not bound to a singular template. Unlike modern droid foundries, which follow set blueprints, this facility is capable of... designing."
Serina's lips curled slightly, just a hint of a smirk. "Meaning?"
Miren keyed in another command. The projection zoomed in on what appeared to be a partially reconstructed control interface—the terminal that dictated how war droids were assembled.
"Meaning, Lady Calis, that you will dictate their form," Miren explained. "The factory doesn't come preloaded with a catalog of models—it's a blank slate. You'll have to manually create or modify the designs yourself. The system will assist, but it will not simply give us ready-made units."
Serina nodded slowly. That made sense. The Rakata had not needed preset schematics—they had created war machines as they saw fit, on demand. This factory was not meant for mass production in the traditional sense; it was meant for innovation, for adaptation, for war without stagnation.
"Slow production means what, exactly?" she asked.
Voss folded his arms. "At present capacity? If we fully commit resources, we might be able to produce a single droid prototype every couple of weeks. If we attempt to mass-produce a small force? We're looking at months, even for a minimal deployment. The assembly lines are functional, but they are not optimized—not yet."
Serina absorbed this, her face betraying no emotion.
"Next category," she said.
Miren switched the projection, shifting the display to a different section of the facility.
"The second category is weapons and armor," she said. "This sector of the factory appears to have been designed to produce personal armaments and defensive systems, but—like the droid foundries—it lacks preset templates. The factory will require design input before it can begin fabrication."
Voss interjected, rubbing his temple as if the sheer complexity of the system was a weight on his mind. "It's not as simple as pressing a button and getting a blaster or a blade. The production system will require detailed schematics—or at the very least, raw conceptual frameworks—before it can begin manufacturing anything."
Serina narrowed her eyes slightly. "Meaning I will need to craft these weapons myself before it can build them."
"Exactly," Miren confirmed. "The factory won't allow us to replicate existing weapons. We tried feeding it standard plasma rifle designs, but the system rejected them. It appears to demand something new—or at least, something that aligns with its own logic. If we want weapons, we'll need to design them from the ground up."
Serina exhaled slowly, turning the thought over in her mind. This was not a limitation—it was an opportunity. The Rakata had designed this factory to create weapons beyond what had existed before, to craft innovations rather than imitations.
She found that... satisfying.
"And production speed?" she asked.
Miren shook her head. "Not much better than the droids. A single weapon prototype will take days, maybe a week, depending on complexity. Mass production is out of the question, at least for now."
Serina accepted this with a slow nod.
"Final category."
The display shifted once more, highlighting the most complex and heavily damaged sections of the first operational floors.
"Light vehicles," Voss said simply. "This was the most difficult section to restore, and it's still barely functioning. The factory has a designated production line for combat vehicles, likely for ground operations or planetary skirmishes."
Serina's gaze flicked toward him. "How much functionality do we have?"
Miren exhaled. "Very little. The entire sector is running on emergency power, and it's clear this was not meant for producing massive war machines. No tanks, no walkers—not yet, at least. The system is capable of creating light attack craft, but, again—"
"I must design them myself," Serina finished.
Miren nodded.
Voss gestured toward the lower sections of the map, where the data was still blurred, incomplete, unknown. "And this is just what we have access to now," he said. "The deeper levels are still a mystery. If the Rakata had sections dedicated to larger-scale production, it would be further down. What we have now is only the surface."
Serina studied the projection, her thoughts unfolding like a web.
Three categories.
War droids. Weapons and armor. Light vehicles.
A factory that did not simply manufacture, but required ingenuity. A facility that demanded design, creativity, innovation.
Serina's fingers curled lightly against the edge of the table.
Slow production. Tediously slow. But she could fix that.
The Rakatan systems were old, but they were not static. They could be repaired, optimized, rebuilt.
A month ago, the factory had been a buried corpse.
Now? It was breathing again.
And soon—it would roar.
Serina lifted her gaze.
"The control interface," she said. "Show me how to access it."
