CH 08 I need help!
{Chapter 8 I need help!}
We are Corellian traders. We are looking for fur and rare metals. Please let us go home." A cylindrical translation droid relayed their words in a monotone voice, its synthetic tone devoid of emotion.
Next to the droid, the three captured militants lay sprawled across the metal table, groaning weakly. Their battered bodies twitched slightly as they tried to feign more misery, uttering broken phrases in their native tongue, their voices barely above a whisper. Their expressions flickered between desperation and feigned innocence, hoping to evoke sympathy from their captors.
Across from them, Leo sat in the cold interrogation room, legs crossed, watching their performance with a detached gaze. Behind him, the imposing figure of the T-850 stood like an unmovable statue, feet shoulder-width apart, hands clasped neatly behind its back in a rigid military stance. The red glow in its optical sensors gave no indication of emotion or pity.
A full Earth day had passed since their capture. Over the past 24 hours, under the relentless scrutiny of the Mastermind and the persistent beatings from the Marines, these militants had spoken more words than they likely had in their entire lives. Every phrase, every utterance, every plea had been meticulously recorded, analyzed, and processed. Even the cries they had made as infants paled in comparison to the sheer volume of information extracted from them in this single, unrelenting day.
As of now, over 40% of their language—known as Galactic Standard—had been deciphered. This was sufficient for rudimentary conversation, though the nuances of their written system, including grammar and syntax, would require further analysis before full mastery could be achieved.
The militants remained blissfully ignorant of the grim fate awaiting them. Their minds clung to a fragile hope, believing that the young man before them—who looked far more approachable than the cold, unyielding Marines—might show mercy. They did not yet understand that Leo's gaze was not one of sympathy, but of calculation.
Ignoring their attempts at playing the victim, Leo turned his attention to the translation droid and spoke clearly. "Where is the capital of the Galactic Empire?"
The three men exchanged bewildered glances before one of them hesitantly corrected, "Galactic Republic. Not Empire. The capital is Coruscant."
Leo nodded slightly, as if filing the information away, then continued, "Who is the leader of the Jedi Order?"
Their confusion deepened. They shook their heads, muttering that they did not know.
Of course, Leo thought. During the Republic era, the Jedi Order, despite its revered status, maintained a discreet presence. They acted in the shadows, guiding the Republic without seeking public recognition. To ordinary citizens of the Outer Rim, Jedi Knights were little more than myths.
He decided to shift his approach. "Who is the Speaker of the Galactic Senate?"
The prisoners hesitated, exchanging wary glances before one of them finally answered, "Finis Valorum."
Leo's expression darkened slightly. He followed up with a final question: "Has there been a war on the planet Naboo?"
The three shook their heads in unison.
Without another word, Leo rose from his seat, turned on his heel, and left the interrogation room. His boots echoed against the steel flooring as he made his way toward the bridge.
Behind him, the Mastermind's synthetic voice crackled through the speakers. "The Administrator has left. Let us continue. Please provide the most detailed and accurate description of this feline subject."
The heavy door sealed shut with a metallic clang, and moments later, the agonized screams of the prisoners reverberated through the corridors as the Marines resumed their brutal interrogation.
On the bridge, Leo collapsed into the command chair, staring at the ceiling of the command center as he pieced together the fragments of history he had just confirmed. He had successfully narrowed down the timeline of this Star Wars universe to within a thirty-year window. But this revelation brought him no comfort—only a deep sense of unease.
Within these thirty years, the galaxy would be consumed by an era of unprecedented war and devastation. Every corner of the Republic, every planet, every system, would be touched by conflict. The ancient Galactic Republic, a civilization spanning over 25,000 years, was standing on the precipice of annihilation.
Leo closed his eyes and combed through his knowledge of the "Star Wars" timeline. At this moment, Finis Valorum held the seat of Speaker, and the Naboo Crisis had yet to occur. This was a pivotal point in galactic history.
The Battle of Naboo would ultimately lead to Valorum's downfall, paving the way for Sheev Palpatine to seize control. Then, through a masterstroke of manipulation, Palpatine would orchestrate a grand war that would fracture the Republic beyond repair.
Ten years after the Battle of Naboo, the exploited Outer Rim planets would unite, forming the Confederacy of Independent Systems in defiance of the Republic. The Clone Wars would erupt—a brutal conflict lasting three years, fueled by mass-produced clone soldiers and droid armies, an engineered catastrophe designed by Palpatine himself.
Sheev Palpatine—perhaps the most brilliant and ruthless manipulator in galactic history—was the architect of it all. Through deceit and war, he would dismantle the Jedi Order, erase his opposition, and rise as the uncontested ruler of the galaxy.
Leo let out a long, weary sigh. His mind raced as the weight of the situation pressed upon him. "Why this era...? Of all the timelines... why did it have to be during the darkest age?"
He clenched his fists. "I can't compete with Palpatine. Not in politics. Not in strategy. Not in power. Not in influence. How am I supposed to survive this?"
A dangerous thought crossed his mind. "Should I submit? Pledge loyalty to the Galactic Empire?" He mulled over the idea before shaking his head. "No... Impossible. If I do, the mothership will be seized, all its data stolen, and I'll be nothing more than a disposable pawn."
A cold determination settled in his gaze. "That cannot happen. I'd rather go down fighting."
As he brooded, Daphne Clement and Qi Jian approached, concern flickering in their eyes. Leo shook his head before they could speak. "Return to your duties."
They hesitated but ultimately obeyed, retreating from the bridge. Leo watched them go, murmuring to himself, "I need allies. A politician... someone who can challenge Palpatine."
In this galaxy, brute force alone meant nothing. Even the strongest warrior was powerless against fleets of Star Destroyers and planet-destroying superweapons. No, what he needed was someone with the ability to maneuver through the labyrinth of galactic politics, someone who could turn words into weapons.
His gaze drifted to the personnel roster, and he shook his head. Clement wasn't suited for political games. Qi Jian, though sharp, lacked the influence and experience necessary to navigate the Senate.
He noted an interesting pattern: the ordinary class contained mostly young members, the elite class held seasoned experts, and the master class was filled with veterans in their fifties and sixties. This reinforced an undeniable truth—achievements and experience dictated rank. Given enough time and effort, anyone could ascend the hierarchy.
But time was a luxury he didn't have. He needed an established political mastermind now.
Leo exhaled sharply and opened the personnel list. His eyes widened in surprise—something had changed.
Previously, the list contained three classifications: ordinary, elite, and master. But now, one of the three question marks had been unveiled.
A new tier had appeared.
Legendary.
A chill ran down Leo's spine. "Mastermind! When was the legendary tier unlocked?"
[Upon your awakening, Administrator. Without sufficient power, legendary figures would never swear loyalty to you. Their strength and influence are beyond reckoning. Summoning them prematurely would lead to chaos.]
-
{Note 1}: This is the main content of the Star Wars prequel trilogy and the feature-length animated film The Clone Wars.
*****
You can support me by joining my Patreon and get upto 60 chapters in advance.
patreon.com/Translator_God