Star Wars: From the Clone Wars to Starfaring Heroes

Chapter 302-304 - Burning Ambition
“I intend to use the Findar Space Station as a safe haven for interstellar Jedi, giving those who have fled the Palpatine Republic a place to go.” Ram Kota shook his head, his tone uncertain. “But I don’t know how long this can last, or how long the Findar people will tolerate our stay… after all, we are ‘traitors’ now.”

"I suggest you stay in Findar only briefly." Renn's tone suddenly turned serious, his gaze darkening. A faint, dark purple glint seemed to flash across the depths of his eyes, so fleeting it was almost an illusion caused by the hangar lights. "Findar is on the fringes of separatist forces, a melting pot of various factions. Many will want to use you to achieve their own ends..."

As he raised his hand, his fingertips inadvertently brushed against the metal pendant at his waist.

It was a black badge engraved with a nine-headed serpent pattern. The moment it was touched, the emergency light in the corner of the hangar flickered inexplicably, and the faint electrical noise was particularly clear in the silence.

“The first one to be targeted is our Supreme Commander, Severn Tann, who has always wanted to build an army of Force-sensitive individuals.” Raine continued in a cold voice, “You remnants of the Jedi are like golden eggs within her reach, providing her with a constant stream of fighting power.”

The two Jedi masters tensed up instantly.

Luminara tucked her hands into the worn sleeves of her robe, maintaining a Jedi-like calm on the surface, but her fingertips curled slightly inside the sleeves.

She suddenly felt that the air around her seemed to have gotten colder, not because of a change in temperature, but more like the chill of some invisible force brushing against her skin.

However, even with the Force's perception, the source could not be found.

Ram Kota made no attempt to hide his wariness, his fingers instinctively curling towards the hilt of his lightsaber as he exhaled a heavy breath through his nose.

Just as he inhaled, Renn slightly turned his head, his gaze landing precisely on the hand that was pressing the sword, and a very faint smile appeared on the corner of his mouth: "Master Kota, there is no need to be nervous, I mean no harm."

The moment the words left his mouth, Ram suddenly felt his grip on the sword loosen, as if a faint force was quietly easing his tension. By the time he realized it, his fingertips had already left the hilt by half an inch.

A brief silence fell over the hangar, broken only by the distant hum of the anti-gravity elevator and the whispers of the newly arrived Jedi tending to the wounded.

In addition to the smell of fuel and burning, there was a very faint, metallic burning smell in the air. Luminara scanned her surroundings but could not find the source of the smell.

Until she caught a glimpse of the sole of Ryan's boot, which was directly opposite a metal floorboard, from which tiny wisps of white smoke were faintly rising, as if it had been baked by an invisible high temperature.

“Thank you for reminding me, General Bontri.” Luminara finally spoke, her tone filled with genuine gratitude. “From Sereno’s rescue of us to providing this intelligence, you have helped us so much.”

“I have some information that might help you make a decision,” Ryan suddenly changed the subject, his gaze sweeping over the two men.

When his gaze lingered on Luminara's face, she suddenly remembered Ram's strange behavior earlier. She subconsciously focused her mind to sense it, only to discover that a Force black hole was appearing around Raine.

The Force vanished the instant it touched her fingertips, leaving only a slight stinging sensation.

In that instant, she felt a faint, undercurrent of power surging within her.

“You may not have heard, but the Galactic Republic has split.” Renn explained slowly, his tone calm yet penetrating. The wounded soldiers who had been sobbing in the hangar suddenly fell silent, even their breathing became soft, as if drawn by his voice. “On one side are your enemies… the Republic controlled by Palpatine, who call themselves the ‘Loyalists’ or ‘Orthodox’; on the other side are your former allies, the separatist Republic composed of some councilors and generals, who call themselves the ‘Revivers’ and oppose Palpatine’s dictatorial rule.”

Luminara keenly sensed the subtle tone in his words and pressed further, "Judging from your tone, it seems you don't have much faith in the Restorationists?"

“I would be happy to see the Republic fall apart.” Raine’s tone was sarcastic, but his eyes were unfocused, as if he were looking through the hangar wall at the distant Coruscant. “But if you don’t want to be involved in war again, if you don’t want to be soldiers again, the Restorationists are definitely not the first choice… They are in dire straits themselves now, and joining them will only make you a pawn on the battlefield again.”

However, if you want the best 'asylum terms,' the Restorationists are the most likely to accept you, after all, you were once 'heroes' of the Republic. As for whether they can withstand the encirclement and suppression by the Loyalists, that's hard to say.

As soon as he finished speaking, the screen of the control console in the distance suddenly flashed, and the star map that was originally displayed automatically switched to the coordinates of the Restorationist territory.

The Findar official in charge of the operation was stunned for a moment. He pressed the button repeatedly, but the screen remained motionless until Renn looked away, at which point the screen returned to normal.

Ram Kota nodded slowly: "I agree. The Revivalists are a hot potato right now. Getting involved with them will only make our situation more dangerous."

“But you have other options.” Ryan shrugged, crossed his arms, and continued, “To the south of the Restorationists is their ally, the Tapani Federation, which has also broken away from Coruscant’s control and occupies a considerable territory in the Central District.”

The Tapani Federation, with its more centralized rule and distance from Palpatine's core of power, had a higher survival rate than the Restorationists.

However, I'm not sure if they'd be willing to accept you... Harboring 'Jedi traitors' would make them targets of the loyalists, but you can try; perhaps you can gain their protection by leveraging your Jedi strength."

Luminara shook her head silently, her eyes filled with hesitation.

The Tapani Federation is known for its pragmatism, and cooperating with them would be tantamount to trading the dignity of the Jedi for living space, which is not the choice she wanted.

“There is another option, which is also the safest one, but only if you can get there.” Ryan shifted his stance, his tone becoming more serious.

“I don’t believe anyone would still have any sympathy for us ‘traitors’,” Master Kota interjected with a hint of sarcasm. Having experienced the betrayal of the Temple and the hardships of his escape, he had long since given up on any hope of “sympathy.”

"Queen Titan has already gone to Coruscant to contain the survivors of the Temple," Raine calmly stated.

Master Kota's mockery froze on his face, and he immediately shut his mouth.

Luminara couldn't hide her surprise either, her eyes filled with doubt: "How did you know? Empress Titan has a long history with the Jedi, but Palpatine would never allow them to harbor a 'traitor.' How did you confirm this information?"

"Never mind the source of the information," Master Kota interrupted her, his tone irritated and urgent. "What we should be thinking about most right now is how to get there! The established route to Queen Titan passes through the Coruscant system, which is now the core stronghold of the Loyalists. For our remnant force and a few damaged warships to cross the war zone and enemy territory is simply walking into a trap. There's no way we can succeed!"

Just then, the communicator in Luminara's arms suddenly vibrated.

The old, broken communicator, which hadn't lit up since the fall of the temple, was now flashing a faint green light, displaying a line of gibberish. The order of the gibberish subtly corresponded to the coordinates of "Empress Titan" that Rein had just mentioned.

“Use the secret route I took to Queen Titan… the Agdur route.” Renn tilted his head, his fingertip tapping in the air. A blurry star trail formed in the air where he touched it, which disappeared after a few seconds. “Once you reach the Agdur system, give my name and negotiate with the ‘Institute of Astronomical Computing.’ They will let you through.”

Raine took a deep breath, looking intently at the two Jedi Masters, his tone heavy: "The path you choose to take in the future, and the kind of person you want to become, will ultimately determine your choices."

Is it to retreat to Queen Titan and seek peace, no longer concerned with galactic conflicts?
Or will you join a faction and continue fighting for your 'ideals'?

Or perhaps, to break away from all factions and forge a completely new path for the Jedi?

"The entire universe is waiting for you to make your choice." As he said this, all the shadows in the hangar seemed to tilt slightly in his direction, converging into a deeper darkness behind him. "Whatever you choose, don't regret it. Good luck, Jedi Masters."

When Ryan turned to leave, his steps were steady yet silent, without even a sound from the metal floor.

As Luminara watched his retreating figure, she suddenly noticed that the hem of his cloak remained perfectly straight, as if held in place by an invisible force, even as air currents swept through the hangar.

Ram breathed a sigh of relief only after his figure disappeared at the hangar entrance, and subconsciously touched his lightsaber: "I felt... something was wrong just now, like something was watching me."

Luminara Onduli and Ram Kota exchanged a glance, then looked out at the starry sky through the porthole.

In the deep universe, countless stars twinkle with a faint light, as if guiding the way.

Is it an illusion?

The stars seemed brighter than ever before.

They were just outside the thin, transparent steel window, so close that it seemed you could reach out and touch them, yet so far away that they were like the hope of another world.

In the deep universe, stars twinkled, and in her palm, there still lingered the cold, stinging sensation from when she had just tested Rein.

……

...Instruction No. 66, 15 hours.

Mingban Star, Sercapus Galaxy.

Severn Tann stepped down the gangway of the stealth cruiser "Carrion Spikes," his posture upright like a conqueror, his black armor gleaming coldly in the dim light of Mingban Star.

The damp, cold air instantly enveloped her, carrying the fishy smell of damp earth and the pungent odor of ion discharge, making her involuntarily frown.

She had long anticipated that the moment she set foot on this land, she might have been locked onto by hundreds of scopes.

She could clearly sense the tense aura of the Republic soldiers hidden behind the tree trunks, the chilling killing intent of the snipers lurking in the tree lines, and the subtle energy fluctuations emanating from the weapon systems locked onto her on the armored vehicle in the distance.

Instead of being nervous, she gave a cold smile, and the super combat robot guards around her immediately formed a tight defensive formation, with their wrist cannons slightly raised, ready to fire at any moment.

She stepped into the makeshift shelter, the shadows inside seemingly tracking her every step. The dimly lit corridor was illuminated by glaring fluorescent lights, the light reflecting off the metal walls in dappled patterns.

The Republic delegation stood in the center of the bunker, its members dressed in crisp gray uniforms. An intelligence officer stared at her expressionlessly, his fingers hovering over his communicator, ready to report at any moment.

The staff seemed somewhat at a loss, avoiding eye contact with her.

Among them stood a tall Chagrian man draped in a red and gold sash, none other than Mas Ameda, the Deputy Speaker of the Republic.

Tann's gaze slowly swept over him, a hint of playful mockery in his eyes: "I thought Palpatine would send a decent negotiator, but I didn't expect him to send you? I really don't know if this is an insult to me... suggesting that I'm only fit to negotiate with the vice-speaker, or an insult to you... sending you to risk your life in a place where conflict could break out at any moment?"

Mas Ameda's deep red eyes remained unmoved, and his face maintained the composure of a politician. But Tann noticed that his fingers, hidden in the sleeve of his robe, had clenched slightly, and his knuckles had turned slightly white.

“I come on behalf of the Supreme Speaker, with the Republic’s peace proposal.” He spoke calmly, unperturbed by Tann’s sarcasm. “Now, may we sit down and talk?”

Tann found it amusing, walked to the chair next to the negotiating table, and leaned back, his posture languid yet imposing: "'Warlord' proposal? Interesting. I'd like to know, since you called me a 'warlord of separatist forces' in the Senate, why did you take the initiative to invite me to negotiate instead of going to the Confederation Congress?"

Mas Ameda gestured to the chair across the table, indicating for her to sit down, before taking his own seat: “We believe the Confederation Parliament has been sidelined, and the real power in the hands of the separatist forces is now you, Supreme Commander Severn Tann.”

“That’s right.” Tann sighed softly, leaning back in his chair. He picked up the tablet containing the negotiation documents on the table, his fingertips lightly swiping across the screen. His voice echoed in the dim bunker, tinged with a barely perceptible smugness. “You tried negotiating with the Confederation before in Ondron, but that was more like a farce… All that came were politicians and bureaucrats who only knew how to talk, not a single one of them actually made the decisions. It seems that this time, your Supreme Chancellor wants to make up for the disappointment of last time. Another jungle planet, another simple little room and table—simple and direct, I like it.”

She secretly hoped that Palpatine himself was sitting across from her, wanting to see what kind of expression that old fox would have when facing her.

Is it anger, feigned calm, or something else?
"Hopefully, nothing will go wrong this time," the Republic's Deputy Speaker said meaningfully, clearly alluding to the failure of the previous peace negotiations with Ondron.

“I hope so too,” Tann murmured, his red eyes quickly scanning the terms on the document, his fingertips lightly tapping the screen. “The first clause: Cease hostilities in the northern (Entella route, Serranon branch line, Hydia route), eastern (Peremia trade route, Trelon trade route, South Sri route), and southern (Coreria runway, Hydia route, Rima trade route) regions of the galaxy. See the appendix for specific administrative boundaries… The Confederation can agree to this clause, but on one condition.”

"What are the conditions?" Mas Ameda leaned forward slightly, his eyes focused.

"If the Sekapus sector is ceded to the Republic as a gesture of 'good faith' in the ceasefire, then the Confederation must be compensated." Tann's tone left no room for argument. "We want the Manda Merchant Route and all the sectors south of it... the resources and control of the shipping lanes there are enough to offset the loss of the Sekapus sector."

The Chagrian raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes: "Including Kamino? You should know that Kamino is the Republic's clone trooper training base. The Speaker won't give it up easily."

"Then you'll have to weigh things... Does the Republic value control of Mingban Star more, or the Kamino clone base?" Tann countered, his tone laced with pressure. "The Serkaps Sector is adjacent to Mingban Star and is an important stronghold for you in the Central Ring; while the Manda Merchant Route is merely a secondary trade route for the Republic. I think Vice Speaker knows better than I do which is more important."

“Specific details can be adjusted later; let’s first confirm our agreement in principle.” Mas Ameda did not directly refuse but chose a roundabout approach.

“Very well.” Tann grinned, revealing a set of white teeth, but his eyes were cold. “Secondly, the Confederation cannot guarantee a ceasefire in the northern galaxy. The new territory is currently occupied by rebels… an armed force composed of Serenian resistance fighters and corporate mercenaries who do not obey orders from either side and only attack passing fleets. Just as you cannot guarantee a ceasefire at the Corellian runway… the pirates and smugglers there are just as much of a headache for you, aren’t they?”

“It’s the ‘Republic,’ General Tann.” Mas Ameda corrected sharply, a hint of annoyance in his voice, clearly displeased that Tann associated the Republic with “piracy.” “But I understand what you mean, which leads to the core of the second agreement… non-interference.”

“Non-interference?” Tann leaned back, tapping his fingertips lightly on the table, making a rhythmic sound. “That’s an interesting request. We are at war, why should we agree to ‘non-interference’ in each other’s internal affairs? It might be a good thing for you, but it’s of no benefit to the Confederation.”

“Because these rebels are our common enemy.” Ameda slammed his fist on the table, his tone serious. “Every uprising, every armed rebellion, will trigger a chain reaction, eroding the foundations of our two governments’ rule. They are a plague, a malignant tumor threatening the stability of the galaxy, and neither of us should harbor, aid, or negotiate with them… This is in our best interest.”

Tann knew in his heart that this deal was not fair.

The internal strife in the core world benefits the Confederation, causing the Republic in the galactic interior to continuously bleed and become overwhelmed, unable to concentrate its forces to suppress the separatist forces in the outer ring.

Meanwhile, Count Dooku's remaining forces had long since crumbled in the new territory, scattered along the outer edge of the confederation, posing little threat to the confederation.

But she now has more pressing matters to attend to… consolidating her power within the Confederation, integrating the separatist fleet, and securing a respite, however temporary.

"We can discuss the specific details later. In principle, I agree to this agreement." She went along with it and didn't dwell on it.

Ameda's demeanor visibly relaxed as he continued reciting the third clause of the agreement: "The third clause concerns the exchange of prisoners of war. The Confederation will release all captured Republic soldiers and junior officers, and the Republic will similarly release captured Separatist soldiers and junior officers. The time and place of the exchange will be agreed upon separately."

“Agreed.” Tann waved his hand, indicating that the topic was unnecessary to discuss further, and said decisively, “Your conditions are reasonable. But the Confederation will not hand over its senior officers, nor does it expect you to hand over yours… Everyone knows that the value of senior officers goes far beyond simply being ‘prisoners of war’.”

Ameda hesitated for a moment, then finally nodded in agreement: "Okay, senior officers are not included in this exchange."

For the next few hours, the two men talked back and forth in the dimly lit bunker, their voices sometimes restrained and sometimes sharp, repeatedly arguing over issues such as the division of supply routes, economic reparations for war losses, and the ownership of the disputed star system on the central border.

Every concession is accompanied by an equivalent exchange; every moment of silence is filled with strategic calculations…

No one wants to suffer a loss, and no one dares to easily break off relations.

Finally, they arrived at the last agreement.

"Article 10, establish a direct encrypted transmission line between Coruscant and Laxus Second Star... for diplomatic communication at the highest levels of the two countries, paving the way for future cooperation."

Ameda's voice echoed between the bunker walls, carrying a hint of anticipation.

Tann raised an eyebrow, his eyes full of vigilance: "You want to bypass the official diplomatic process and have me communicate directly with Palpatine? That doesn't seem like something the 'Orthodox Republic' would do."

“The cost of war is too high, Supreme Commander,” Mas Ameda explained, a hint of weariness in his voice. “Looking to the future, perhaps our two governments will find that cooperation is more beneficial than confrontation… for example, jointly combating pirates and maintaining the security of trade routes. Let’s be frank: now, our two countries control two-thirds of the galactic territory and resources. Direct communication between leaders can effectively ease tensions in the event of misunderstandings and crises, preventing us from falling into a full-scale war again.”

“I thought your Speaker was determined to unify the galaxy.” Tann leaned forward. “At least that’s what he said in his speech in the Senate… ‘Eliminate all traitors and unify the galaxy.’”

Mas Ameda's lips curled into a smile that wasn't quite a laugh, his eyes revealing the shrewdness typical of politicians: "Supreme Commander, words and pragmatism are two different things. What a leader says in public is often to stabilize public sentiment and boost morale, not to represent his true thoughts. Speaker Palpatine knows very well how much it will cost to completely destroy the Confederation, and this is not something that can be done in the short term."

Tann scrutinized him for a moment, tilted his head slightly, and asked with a hint of inquiry, "Then tell me, what exactly does your Speaker want to turn the Republic into? A 'unified and stable' dictatorship?"

“A safe and stable society, free from internal and external threats, where people can live and work in peace and contentment.” Ameda exhaled through his nostrils, a cryptic smile flashing across his face. “Perhaps I should also ask you, General Tann, what kind of Confederation do you envision? A military empire under your control?”

A brief, tense silence fell over the bunker, the hum of the fluorescent lights standing out starkly in the stillness, an invisible tension permeating the air.

Then, Tann slowly leaned forward, resting his elbows on the negotiating table, his gaze fixed on Mas Ameda.

The dim light cast sharp shadows on her face, and her red eyes, like molten steel, gleamed with ambition.

"I want it... to be the way I want it to be."

(Requesting monthly votes! The plot points about the protagonist leaving Rendelli are about to be revealed here, but I don't know what the outcome will be. Anyway, please vote!)
(End of this chapter)