Star Wars: From the Clone Wars to Starfaring Heroes

Chapter 242, Section 234 - The Name That Was Spoken
Host!
Ryan gestured to the seat at the head of the table, and following his gesture, Paris noticed that a petite young woman was sitting there.

Her face was exquisite, and she wore an elaborately designed crown-shaped headdress in her hair. Although not extravagant, it clearly exuded royal elegance.

“This is Princess Ella Lota,” the Major General introduced, “the presumptive heir to the throne of the Teta Monarchy.”

The Jedi immediately bowed in unison.

Their diplomatic etiquette, honed from childhood training in the samurai order, had become almost instinctive.

The princess seemed quite pleased with this respect and nodded slightly.

Paris thought to herself, she looked no more than eighteen years old, her emotions were written all over her face.

“Jedi Masters,” Princess Ella spoke, her voice clear and bright, filled with expectation and a certain determination, “you’ve come to help us break free from the Mining Guild’s control, haven’t you?”

Hearing this, Renn felt slightly displeased, but he didn't show it on his face.

“I believe we can reach some kind of consensus, Your Highness.” He spoke calmly, gesturing to the chairs. “Please sit, masters.”

"Will His Majesty the Emperor not participate in this meeting?" Master Gallia asked, concealing his concern beneath polite curiosity.

“Uncle never wakes up at this time,” the princess replied nonchalantly. “Ever since my cousins ​​had their accident, he has always been delirious, even when he is at his best.”

“We’d better be careful what we say,” Renn said, a cryptic smile playing on his lips. He then sat down first and continued, “With the princess here as our witness, there’s no need for anyone else to listen.”

Ryan's gaze inadvertently swept over Paris before quickly shifting away.

The remaining Jedi cautiously observed their surroundings.

The throne room was so spacious that if you were talking in hushed tones at one end, it would be difficult to hear anything at the other end.

“Let’s skip the boring formalities and get straight to the point.” Master Gallia naturally took the lead and spoke first. “The Jedi Order has come here in the hope that the Queen Titan system and its crown planet can be returned to the Galactic Republic.”

Raine's smile deepened, tinged with amusement. "And I demand that the Republic disintegrate on its own. Jedi Master, the Confederation is no longer capable of achieving this goal alone. Since this is completely contrary to everything my country upholds, why should I assist the Republic in repairing itself?"

“The confederation represents resistance against the republic,” Master Gallia calmly responded, “but that does not necessarily mean the republic must perish.”

"This issue was already debated at the Lax Summit."

"So how did the argument end?" Master Procon pressed, his tone suggesting it was merely a rhetorical device.

“It was the Republic that ended the debate itself,” Ryan replied easily. “If the Republic hadn’t perished, our resistance wouldn’t have been a success. Your Senate had already sealed it all, hadn’t it? Therefore, I hope to see your Senate collapse from within.”

Paris glanced at Princess Ella Lota.

Despite the complex and somber content of the conversation, the princess's young eyes still sparkled, as if she found it all quite amusing.

It wasn't until she noticed Paris's gaze that their eyes met. At that moment, Paris clearly felt the sharpness in the other's eyes, like a silent dagger.

She grew up in the palace of her ancestors, but now it has been occupied by foreign mining groups who will not tolerate any resistance.

How did she manage to survive?
Since the legal heir died in an "accident".

Did Ryan underestimate her because of her naive appearance, and thus tolerate her outspokenness?

Paris doesn't think so.

Perhaps... they had already reached some kind of tacit understanding?

But what if we have to fight against a corporate guild that's allied with separatists?
This doesn't seem to make sense either.

But if she remembered correctly, Ryan Bontry had always been a staunch abhorrent to corporateism.

Master Gallia and Master Pro exchanged a glance, and the former continued, "I'm afraid it's too early to talk about this now; we're not ready yet."

The air around the table seemed to freeze instantly.

Neither Raine nor Princess Ella responded immediately, but the princess looked more confused than anything else.

Paris could sense that beneath the calm exterior of this young royal, he was thinking rapidly.

"Wait, what?" It wasn't the other party who spoke up in question, but rather Iscat Akari.

Paris frowned inwardly.

She shouldn't be here; she knows nothing about the background of the matter.

“Hmm,” Ryan responded thoughtfully. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze was completely different from before. “If you continue to express yourselves in this way that is so easy to misunderstand, I might really misunderstand your true intentions.”

“You won’t misunderstand,” Master Procon said with certainty.

“Hello?” Iscart was even more confused. “What are you talking about?” “You brought a completely unsuspecting girl to this meeting,” Ryan pointed out sharply. “Why?”

“It was a matter of necessity,” Adi Gallia replied truthfully.

"Then explain it to her now!"

“Iscart,” Barris immediately whispered, “the masters are discussing the Sith Lord lurking within the Republic. In order to force him to reveal himself, they are considering instigating a civil war to overthrow the Republic.”

“Oh,” Iscart responded blankly, his brain clearly processing the information at lightning speed, “but…does it really have to go this far?”

Barris looked up at Master Gallia, who was closest to Iscart, seeking a more authoritative explanation.

“This is a possibility we have to consider,” the Tross Jedi said gently. “The Sith Lord is too deeply entrenched in the Republic’s system, and it will be difficult for the Jedi Temple to remove him peacefully.”

“This…” Iscat frowned her short, dark eyebrows. “Is this a collective decision by the Supreme Council?”

Adi Gallia paused for a moment.

In that brief moment, Raine Bontri, like a hound that has caught the scent of its prey's weakness, leaned forward, elbows on the table, and said, "I am also very curious about this, Jedi Master. Can I assume that the overall will of the Jedi Temple supports this... secret plan to counter the Sith? Or is this merely an independent action by one of your factions?"

Master Tros closed his eyes, revealing a rare hint of fatigue.

She sighed softly: "Some members of the Supreme Council...would not agree to such a radical approach."

Without needing to be explicitly stated, everyone understands that she is referring to Master Mace Windu, and possibly even Master Yoda.

Iscart was initially shocked, but slowly, as she recalled the injustices and setbacks the Jedi Temple had inflicted on her, her expression gradually softened.

Paris couldn't help but wonder what her friend was thinking at that moment, but she resisted the urge to delve deeper.

Iscart's outward emotions have already said a lot.

"So, exactly..." Master Pro Kong finally raised the most crucial question, "Major General, who exactly is this Sith Lord you're talking about?"

“…We’ve talked about this before,” Ryan said softly, “but it was I who brought it up.”

“I didn’t believe you then, and you knew that,” Master Kell Dole said meaningfully, “but now, I’m willing to believe you.”

"Battle Hydra" leaned back in his chair and said clearly:
"Speaker of the Supreme Council, Shiv Palpatine."

The name was spoken.

It was said by someone who had no Force.

Despite it being a secret powerful enough to shake the galaxy, nothing happened around them.

There were no eerie fluctuations of dark energy, no flickering or extinguishing lights, and no eerie winds commonly seen in holographic dramas.

It was merely a name that was spoken, nothing more.

"It really was him," Adi Gallia muttered to himself, as if his long-held suspicions had been confirmed.

“Although I am very reluctant, I believe what you have said is true.” Pro Kong took a deep breath through his breathing mask. “However, I would like to ask you for evidence to prove this. We need to submit something concrete to the Supreme Council.”

The warlord Peremian snapped his fingers.

Hal, the servant robot beside her, responded to the call and retrieved a small data chip from her internal storage unit.

Raine gently placed it on the silk handkerchief on the table and pushed it toward the Jedi Masters.

“These are some intercepted communications,” he explained, “between Count Dooku and…someone in Coruscant.”

"Isn't there any solid evidence that directly points to the Speaker?" Adi Gallia picked up the chip with extreme care, as if it were so fragile that it would break at the slightest touch.

“Count Dooku is extremely arrogant, while that Sith Lord hides his arrogance under a perfect disguise.” Bontri’s tone carried a hint of helplessness. “Despite the best efforts of my hackers and intelligence personnel, he remains extremely well-hidden. However… I suspect that the Five Hundred Republic Building might be where you can find more clues.”

Why there?

Raine shrugged. "Judging from the concentration and method of the communications, it's very likely the residence of the Sith Lord. Of course, other locations on Coruscant are also possible, such as the factory area or the Senate building itself. To be honest, you can analyze the authenticity of these communications yourselves. Once you've ruled out all other possibilities with the information you have... whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

After saying that, Bontri's gaze swept over Paris again, and he added, "If, in any case, you need more materials... you can contact me through Paris Orpheus."

Paris felt a pang of guilt, as if three pairs of eyes from the underworld were simultaneously burning her profile.

She could only nod silently, too docile to speak, afraid that her voice would betray her trembling.

(End of this chapter)