Star Wars: From the Clone Wars to Starfaring Heroes

Chapter 301-303 - The New Order
Eight hours after Directive No. 66.

A Declaration of a New Order!

Coruscant, the Galactic Senate!
In the holographic projection, the Supreme Speaker's figure occupied the center of the Senate Rotunda, his voice resounding throughout the galaxy through countless speakers, each word carrying a deliberately crafted weight and fervor:
"Senators of the Republic, loyal citizens of our great democracy! Tonight, I convene this special session of the Senate with a heavy heart."

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the packed seats below, as if making eye contact with each member of parliament.

"The long war that has torn our galaxy apart over the past three years should have ended yesterday. Our valiant soldiers, the Army of the Great Republic, have driven the separatist threat to its knees. The final battle has arrived... Our forces have surrounded the traitor Count Dooku and his core group. One last offensive, one last sacrifice, and this long night will end in peace and victory..."

His tone suddenly changed, and he slammed his fist heavily on the edge of the podium, his eyes blazing with fury.

"But this victory was taken from the people we trusted most! The Jedi Order... those who swore to protect the Republic... betrayed us all!"

"At the critical moment, just as our legions were closing in on the retreating enemy, the Jedi turned their lightsabers on the Republic! On you!"

His voice rose, filled with anguish.

"They colluded with the separatists in Sereno, the very enemies they swore to fight! These so-called guardians of justice have revealed their true colors."

"A group of selfish warlords, obsessed with power rather than peace, do not want to end the war; they want to seize control of our republic!"

"Even in this holy land of democracy, their betrayal is deeply entrenched!"

"While our valiant soldiers are sacrificing their lives for victory on the front lines, the Jedi are cowardly attempting to dissolve the Senate, overthrow your elected government, and even assassinate me... in an attempt to create anarchy in the Republic and then rule by force!"

"But I am happy to tell you that, thanks to the will of the people and the courage of the soldiers, I survived!"

"This is the most powerful proof against these traitors. Even their strange magic and mysterious powers cannot destroy our resolve! The Jedi have been defeated, the Order of the Warriors has been dismantled, their plot has been exposed, and their treason cannot be denied!"

His tone turned somber again, and his eyes were filled with worry.

"But I fear their betrayal will come at a heavy price. Because of their defection, the separatists will reap the benefits. Peace has not yet arrived, and the flames of war still burn! Unity is gone, and the republic has already split!"

He pointed to the empty seats in the hall.

“Look around you! Those empty seats! I say, they are all traitors, they have colluded with the despicable separatist ideology! So I ask you, citizens of the Republic: what should we do?”

"Should we tolerate this act of treason? Should we allow those Jedi, scattered like scum, to launch attacks from the shadows and plot a comeback?"

He fired off a barrage of questions, each one like a hammer blow to the hearts of the lawmakers.

"Should we allow these radical separatists to dominate the future of the republic with lies and violence? Should we condone the separatists who have become arrogant because of the betrayal of their new allies and continue to impose a reign of terror on our people? Should we let them destroy everything we have fought, bled, and sacrificed for?"

"No!"

He suddenly raised his hand, his voice echoing throughout the entire hall.

"It's time to ensure that such betrayals no longer threaten us! It's time to forge a new path... a stronger path, a path of unity that we can proudly walk together!"

"Therefore, I appeal to you, senators, builders of our society! I appeal to you, citizens, cornerstones of our great civilization!"

"Let us forge a new path together, united as one! Tonight, as we help pass this bill that will shape the new order of the Republic, I promise you all: all remaining traitors, wherever they may be, will be hunted down and eradicated, brought to justice, dead or alive! All collaborators will be punished in the same way. Those who harbor the enemy are the enemy!"

"The Republic will no longer be weakened by disloyalty, corruption from partisan strife, or the inefficiency of the bureaucratic system!"

"The ambitions of a few will no longer supersede the needs of the many. If we want to survive... if we want to win... we must become stronger, we must overcome these long-standing obstacles that have hindered our development!"

This will be our salvation!

"In the new order, we will eradicate treason, and the will of the people will once again reign supreme. I swear to you: Jedi traitors will be hunted to the very edge of the galaxy. Those separatists emboldened by false victories will face the full power of our Republic of Restoration. Our enemies, near and far, whoever they may be, will be wiped off the face of the stars!"

Finally, his tone turned solemn, and he placed his hands on the robe on his chest: "Since I put on this sacred and precious robe, I have dedicated my life to fighting for the people, for the revival, and for the Republic. Tonight I swear to you: I will only take it off when we achieve final victory, or I will die on the battlefield."

"Just as I am ready to dedicate myself to this mission, I urge you to do the same."

"If we want to get through this turbulent period, we must adhere to the ancient principle that has brought us to this day: our personal lives and deaths are not important, but our people must live and the republic must survive!"

"The sacrifices we are required to make today are no heavier than those made by our predecessors!"

"If we build a society that is interdependent and unyielding, we can overcome all difficulties and obstacles!"

"Because the truth we must remember is that as long as our will is unbreakable and unshaken by failure and suffering, our will and our great republic will surely... triumph!"

……

The Findar Galaxy, Findar Space Station.

Master Luminara Onduli stood before the observation window of the flagship, watching the remnants of the Jedi Expeditionary Force slowly drift towards the Fender Station like driftwood after a storm, their silver-gray hulls gleaming faintly in the starlight.

Her brows furrowed slightly, a question swirling in her mind: Where do we go from here?

As if reading her mind, Master Ram Kota spoke in his rough, sandpaper-like voice, a hint of weariness in his tone: "I have reached an agreement with the Fendia government. They have signed the Gallia Declaration and agreed to a ceasefire with the Independent System Confederation."

Luminara turned her head, a bitter smile curving her tattooed lips, her eyes full of self-mockery: "Suddenly starting to acknowledge the Confederation, Master Kota? We used to call them 'rebels'."

Ram Kota crossed his arms over his chest, shrugged slightly, and said bluntly, “I’d rather have half the galaxy hostile to us than offend the whole galaxy. The separatists are our benefactors now… We’d better start currying favor with them, or we won’t even be able to keep this place.”

The once-honorable Jedi Order is now forced to bow down to the outer forces for survival.

Luminara's gaze once again drifted past the porthole to the docking area of ​​the space station.

A thick alloy pipe was slowly extending between the Republic warship and the giant prisoner ship towed to the open berth, with blue energy patterns flashing at the metal joint.

She could picture the clone army moving through the pipes, and then she thought of the 41st elite legion imprisoned on her flagship, the Garland.

Imprisoning them was both to protect these clones from being purged by the new order and to ensure that they would not suffer a backlash.

Ram Kota followed her gaze, letting out a sneer, his tone carrying a hint of "I knew it all along": "In the end, I was right. Clones are completely untrustworthy; their loyalty is never for the Jedi, much less for the Republic."

The Miriama Jedi slowly shook his head, a hint of confusion and resentment in his eyes: "Their behavior is strange, too abnormal, as if they are being controlled by some force... We will find out the reason."

“They are only loyal to the Camino breeders,” Ram interrupted her mercilessly, his eyes sharp as knives. “Just as robots are only loyal to their programmers, you can’t compare their loyalty to that of humans… the latter are unique products shaped by decades of life and experience. I’m not blaming the clones themselves: like robots, they have no faith, no goal to fight for. Naturally, they will only fight for their creators.”

“Things aren’t that simple,” Luminara insisted, her tone stubborn. “We should have realized it; the Force should have given us a warning…”

“I noticed,” Ram said, looking directly into her eyes, his tone serious. “I noticed, and I warned all of you. Besides, Jedi perception isn’t foolproof, otherwise we wouldn’t be in this predicament, would we?”

Luminara Unduly sighed helplessly, her shoulders slumped slightly, and her tone was one of compromise: "I agree. We did underestimate the danger and overestimate ourselves."

“Cheer up, Master Anduli.” Ram’s tone softened slightly as he tried to comfort her. “If there’s anything you’re right about and I’m wrong about, it’s that ‘Battle Hydra’ will keep his promise. At least for now, it seems he hasn’t lied to us.”

He pointed to the space station's hangar and loading dock.

There, several shuttles and supply ships were slowly landing, accompanied by the hiss of hydraulic systems, leaving faint heat marks on the metal decks from the residual heat of their engines.

The boarding ramp slowly descended, and white steam spewed out from the gaps in the cabin door, quickly condensing into tiny water droplets in the cold air. Then, figures appeared one after another from the mist.

At first, there were only a few figures, their silhouettes against the light as they walked into the light. The Jedi robes they wore, which were originally either pure white or brown, were now stained gray-black by the smoke of gunpowder, and the edges were worn so that the inner threads were exposed.

The first to emerge was a Monkara Jedi, his dark green skin appearing somewhat pale under the lights. He tightly clutched a simple splint to his chest with one webbed hand, while his other hand supported a Notolan warrior who was walking with faltering steps, the latter's tentacles drooping limply over his shoulder.

Behind them, a Miliaman limped along, leaning on a makeshift cane made of metal pipes, with traces of blood still clinging to his trousers.

Next came three apprentices, their faces haggard, with heavy dark circles under their eyes, their clothes tattered, helping each other down the slope, their eyes filled with the bewilderment of surviving a disaster.

More shuttles landed one after another, and with each ramp lowered, more Jedi stepped onto the deck of the space station.

A Rodia warrior's left arm was wrapped in thick bandages, with dark red blood seeping from the edges.

A Tirek man, his body wrapped in blood-stained bandages, grimaced in pain with every step he took.

A Togrutta master, whose once-neat headdress was now stained with soot and dried blood, stood upright despite his painful gait, his back still ramrod straight, retaining the dignity of the Jedi.

Some were helped down from the separatist soldiers' shoulders, while others lay on suspended stretchers with their eyes closed and faces as pale as paper, their breathing maintained by life support devices provided by the accompanying medical robots.

But most importantly, they were free.

There were no binding chains, no escorting guards, and no obvious signs of coercion.

The separatist soldiers who guided them were more like guards than prison guards; they were unarmed and would even take the belongings of the wounded.

Super battle robots lined up behind them, their wrist cannons pointing upwards rather than forwards, and their metallic eyes gleaming with a neutral blue light.

As soon as they stepped onto the space station deck, Ram Kota's militia immediately stepped forward, carefully took the wounded, and escorted them to the temporary medical station.

Master Luminara finally breathed a sigh of relief, her tense shoulders slowly relaxing.

Ryan Bontry did indeed keep his promise.

But then, a new worry arose: were these perilous places the only remaining traces of this ancient organization that once covered the entire galaxy?

In his speech at a special session of the Senate, the Supreme Chancellor clearly declared that the Jedi Temples had been destroyed and that most of the Jedi in the galaxy had not received timely protection from the Peremian Alliance.

How many people are left?
Are there really only these few people in front of us?
“I think it’s them,” Ram Kota’s voice pulled her back to reality from her worries.

Luminara followed his gaze and saw a massive armored shuttle slowly descending, its fuselage crashing heavily onto the deck with a dull thud.

This shuttle's design is completely different from ordinary transport ships. It has heavy armor and its hull is covered with weapon ports. It is clearly an escort ship used for the travel of high-ranking officials, which is enough to attract the attention of the Fendians, militia and Jedi in the hangar.

The massive boarding ramp slowly lowered like an unfolding curtain, the sound of metal scraping echoing in the empty hangar.

The first figure to appear was highly recognizable.

Admiral Trench, with his six arms, is a veteran of the separatist navy. He wears his signature black armor, his six arms hanging naturally at his sides, and he walks with a steady and powerful gait.

The crowd instinctively made way for him. He glanced quickly at the people around him with his compound eyes, nodded slightly in greeting, and continued walking toward the space station's command center.

The combat robot guard behind him was surrounding a huge floating metal plate.

The metal plate is large enough to accommodate an adult, and its surface is engraved with intricate energy patterns.

Luminara quickly recognized it as a "storage sarcophagus," designed to imprison Force users. She had seen similar devices during the long war between the Mandalorians and the Jedi.

The grooves inside these stone coffins fit the prisoner's body perfectly, securing him firmly and rendering him immobile.

In addition to a gag to secure the head and a two-way soundproofing device to block out sound, the prisoner will be continuously injected with sedatives through dozens of built-in micro-injection needles to prevent him from using the Force to resist.

Her heart sank.

Count Dooku must be inside, bound, anesthetized, and gagged, but still alive.

Findal Space Station will be the last stop before heading to Laxus II, where the former Jedi Master will face the judgment and fate prepared by the Pantorans.

"For us, the long war is over."

Ryan Bontri's calm voice suddenly sounded behind her, and Luminara struggled to maintain her composure as a Jedi Master before turning around without losing her composure.

She turned sharply to her left and saw the separatist general known as "Fighting Hydra" standing not far away, his tall figure casting a long shadow under the lights.

His once vibrant purple cloak was now faded and worn at the edges, hanging loosely over his shoulders, and his face bore the marks of battle. A shallow scar stretched from his forehead to his jaw.

“For you, the long war has only just begun.” Even noticing Luminara’s surprise, Renn showed no sign of it. His gaze was fixed on the moving sarcophagus, and his tone was calm but carried an undeniable power.

“General Bontri.” Master Ram Kota stepped forward first, giving a slight nod in greeting, his tone conveying the necessary respect.

Raine nodded politely in response, finally shifting his gaze from the sarcophagus to the two Jedi Masters: "Don't get me wrong, Jedi Masters, there is no longer any place for you in the galaxy. The millennium of the Jedi Order has come to an end."

Luminara paused, a hint of confusion and wariness in her eyes: "Doesn't the Confederation intend to accept us? Perhaps we can offer them some help..."

Raine's serpentine irises slowly turned toward her, his head remaining perfectly still, his tone icy: "I won't stop you from trying, but I won't encourage it either. Understand that rescuing you from Sereno was entirely for the separatists' own self-interest. As long as the Jedi exist, Palpatine's destruction of the Old Republic is not complete, and the New Order will always have enemies. But my protection ends there. The separatists are not your friends, and I am just one of many voices in the Confederate Congress."

“The Confederate Parliament must understand the value of accepting the Jedi Order, right? We can provide tactical support and train soldiers…” Luminara was still trying to persuade them.

“We’ve already betrayed you once, who knows if we’ll do it again?” Ram muttered to himself, his tone tinged with self-deprecation.

They were once the guardians of the republic, but now they have to seek refuge with "rebels".

A cold smile played on Raine's lips as he spoke bluntly and mercilessly: "You can go to Laxus to find sympathizers... there will undoubtedly be some there, but the Jedi Order will never again enjoy the freedom and autonomy they had on Coruscant. In my view, you only have two choices: either join the Confederate army, and if you're lucky, become another branch of the Confederate armed forces, under the command of the Council; or..."

He paused for a moment, his tone tinged with impatience: "Either find a private sponsor, or perhaps a star system is willing to take you in in exchange for your services... such as protecting caravans or suppressing rebellions. In any case, you will not be treated as refugees, but as assets to be sold for a high price."

"So the choice is either to become a soldier or a mercenary," Luminara concluded dejectedly, her heart filled with disappointment.

The Jedi Order, once a symbol of justice and hope, has now fallen to such a state.

“The Fendia government has agreed to temporarily lend us the Fendal Space Station.” Ram Cota turned to Luminara, trying to calm her down. “At least until the station’s repairs are complete, we can stay here and contact the escape zones throughout the galaxy via encrypted channels to rescue as many people as possible before deciding on our final destination.”

Ryan stood quietly to the side, observing everything before him, his gaze slowly sweeping across the interior of the hangar, as if assessing the value of this "cooperation".

Suddenly, Luminara caught a glimpse of two pointed ears out of the corner of her eye.

The ever-present LEP auxiliary robot silently approached Rein and handed him a silver tablet.

The separatist general lowered his head, took the tablet, and quickly browsed through its contents. His previously calm eyes widened slightly, and a barely perceptible smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"How long do you plan to stay here?" He put away his tablet, looked up at the two Jedi Masters, and asked with a hint of inquiry in his voice.

(End of this chapter)