Star Wars: From the Clone Wars to Starfaring Heroes

Chapter 117-118 - Times have changed!

Dimula swiftly stepped forward, almost instinctively reaching out to block the somewhat agitated Mur Danto.

"Brigadier General Bontri," his tone became more pragmatic, "please understand our position. We are not asking the General's Office to immediately assume the astronomical budget for the entire project... We are only requesting funding for the initial theoretical research and feasibility analysis phases. Currently, the core physical model verification and basic engineering design are crucial. As for building the prototype ship and implementing deployment..."

He paused for a moment, then continued, "We can wait until the war situation becomes clearer, or even until after the war, before making any progress."

Raine's gaze shifted from the two men, slowly rising upwards, past the noisy crowd, to look at the towering dome of the council chamber.

He subconsciously moved his somewhat stiff neck joints.

This condition... sounds much more reasonable.

More importantly, this effectively tied the interests of the Lorona Corporation and the Technology Alliance, a vast commercial empire that virtually monopolized Confederate robot production (with Bactoid Industries as its subsidiary), to General Tann's authority.

As an intermediary, there is a huge amount of room for maneuver in this situation.

They could obtain more favorable military procurement contracts, exclusive technology cooperation rights, and even a greater say in the future military industry landscape...

Tsk!
Rein withdrew his gaze, nodded vigorously to Dimura and Mur Danto, and said, “I will present this proposal in its entirety to General Tann, but to convince her, I need a more detailed technology roadmap, preliminary cost estimates, and your specific explanations of the breakthroughs in the core theory of the ‘gravitational particle accelerator’.”

“Supervisor Unbrak is very happy to have detailed discussions with you,” Mur Danto said, clasping his hands together in front of him, the metal knuckles making a slight scraping sound. “Our Technological Alliance will always remember your kindness in helping us relocate to Boz Pitti. I believe that, based on mutual benefit and trust, we can soon reach a preliminary agreement that satisfies both parties. Please be sure to inform our General’s Office of our initial intentions as soon as possible.”

"I will."

“Then we won’t bother you any longer.” Dimula gave another standard military salute.

The two then turned around and quickly blended into the crowd, clearly indicating that there were other important figures they needed to meet.

As he watched them leave, Renn pondered his next move.

Perhaps I should really take some time to visit Boz Piti and see for myself how Ambrugga is managing that outpost.

Of course, for safety's sake, we should bring Vinok.

Moreover, he also wanted to confirm whether there was any progress on another hidden reason for choosing Boz Piti.

However, he still needs to continue to achieve his initial goal.

“General Trench,” Ryan raised his voice, making sure his words reached the tall Hatch officer clearly, as he strode toward him, “it is a relief to see you safe and sound.”

Trench slowly shifted his gaze from the intense voting scene below, but did not turn around completely, only tilting his head slightly. "Brigadier General Bontry, it's a waste of your concern for me; save it for the cause of the Confederation."

Even from a distance, Trench's mechanically synthesized voice, with its metallic, abrasive quality, still made Renn feel slightly uncomfortable.

He stopped a few steps away from Trench, his sharp gaze sweeping over several officers nearby who were clearly eavesdropping.

When those people met his gaze, they immediately looked away guiltily and dispersed sullenly.

"The security situation in the Confederacy remains dire, sir," Ryan replied solemnly. "But with General Tann in command and a seasoned veteran like yourself returning to the fold, we may be able to turn things around. However, I must admit that your public support for her nomination... is somewhat unexpected."

Trench emitted an indistinct sound, a mixture of humming and electronic noise, as his gold-plated mechanical arms adjusted their positions in front of and behind him, emitting a faint hydraulic hum.

"Times have changed, Brigadier General."

Trench couldn't help but sigh. "The mindset of the Christopher Sith era is no longer applicable. To win this war, we must unite under a supreme commander whom the soldiers truly understand, trust, and are willing to follow."

"Don't misunderstand me. I've always believed that this position should have belonged to me, but I have no ill will towards Severn Tann."

“At this moment, there is no one more suitable than her. At this critical juncture, we must not allow the Senate’s political games and backroom deals to disrupt the stability of the military. Count Dooku.”

Trench's voice carried a hint of coldness: "Despite his impeccable political skills, this time he's overstepped his bounds."

Ryan felt his throat go dry, and he carefully chose his words: "...Count Dooku's political talent is indeed unmatched, sir, but he doesn't seem to understand, or rather, doesn't want to understand, the responsibilities we bear as front-line officers of the Confederation. In his eyes, soldiers seem to be born to obey any order unconditionally, regardless of its rationality."

“As for Grievous…” This time, Trench turned completely around, and Renn clearly saw an undisguised expression of disgust on the face that was a fusion of damaged biological tissue and sophisticated machinery. “He’s at best a somewhat capable tactical executor. As generals and admirals bearing heavy responsibilities, we must be keenly aware that every decision concerns the lives of thousands of soldiers and the future of the Confederation. Yet that arrogant fool, wielding immense power but lacking any strategic vision, acts recklessly and without regard for consequences!”

Grievous should never have been promoted to general; his most suitable role has always been that of a frontline battlefield commander.

“...Count Dooku will not accept this outcome easily.” Renn lowered his voice, almost whispering.

Trench turned around completely, giving Ryan a chance to see what he looked like up close.

The left side of his face still bore pink, taut scars, while the rest was replaced by a gold-plated prosthetic body with a cold, metallic sheen.

Raine had to admit that this style had a strange and intimidating power, but the thought of becoming a half-human, half-machine being filled him with a strong sense of repulsion.

Installing a functional prosthesis is one thing, but he would rather face death than rely on machines to prolong his life.

“Then we must treat him as a potential threat that could jeopardize the long-term interests of the Confederation.” Trench’s answer was eerily calm, as if stating an objective fact.

“Sir, the government is the leader of the country,” Ryan reminded him, his tone restrained like a soldier’s. “The army’s duty is to execute orders.”

“Then let the government learn to ‘lead’ properly,” Trench’s mechanical eyes, gleaming with an inhuman light, were fixed on Ryan’s eyes. “We are the state’s hounds, and their duty is to point out the targets we need to pounce on, not to try to wield the hounds’ fangs themselves.”

Just as Ryan was trying to decipher Trench's unfathomable gaze, a strong sense of unease suddenly welled up within him.

He felt that Trench seemed to be hinting at something to him.

It is some kind of crucial information.

But he couldn't grasp the key.

He must have forgotten something.

The thought tightened around his chest like an invisible rope, and his arms instinctively pressed against his sides—what was it?
He overlooked a fatal flaw, which the shrewd Hatch man had already discovered.

What could it be...?

Where is Griffith now?

Ryan blurted it out, completely disregarding whether such a direct question crossed the line.

"He and his loyal servant Tony fled west with his 'Conqueror-class' command ship," Trench said calmly. "He ignored all the summons issued by the Laxus Senate, and the investigation into his command responsibility in the Battle of Kolumex has been put on hold indefinitely."

(End of this chapter)