64-66

Chapter 64: Taking Stock 

As the chaos settled and debris stopped falling, Murt let out a long sigh of relief. “So, what do I say? Thanks for not killing me, or thanks for almost taking me out with a potted plant? Gotta say, even with a hundred pirates chasing me on Kuken’s cruiser, they couldn’t pull that off.” 

“What exactly happened on that cruiser?” Ventus asked, frowning. “If that last explosion hadn’t damaged the engines and slowed it down, I wouldn’t have had such an easy time… Wait a second!” He bolted upright. “The cruiser! Where is it?!” 

He suddenly remembered that after firing the proton torpedo, everything had gone blank. The only thing he could recall was that the torpedo’s launch circuit had been jury-rigged to the air conditioner switch. 

“Heh, relax, it’s handled,” Murt said with a grin. “Your proton torpedo went straight into the cruiser’s auxiliary thruster port. The blast cut the main power supply and fried the engine’s electronics, so the whole ship just shut down. Nice shot, Administrator. I can’t think of anyone else who could’ve nailed that kind of precision.” 

“What happened after that?” Ventus pressed. 

“Oh, it got wild,” Murt chuckled. “Our fighters swarmed the cruiser, and the Aurore freighter was gearing up to board. But the pirates started imploding on their own. Iron Fang Kuken wanted to fight to the death, but his first mate had other ideas and pushed for surrender. They started fighting each other! By the time our ground team boarded, the pirates were still at it, and we mopped them up easy.” 

“And Kuken?” 

“Captured. He’s been hauled to Dawn for a public trial, just waiting for you to wake up. The cruiser’s been towed back to the mothership, and the engineering team’s working on fixing it. Should be combat-ready in a few months.” 

Ventus, still lying in the medbay bed, turned his head with a faint smile. “You still haven’t told me what you did on that cruiser.” 

Murt waved it off casually. “Eh, I noticed their crew was already fracturing. Kuken’s pirate gang hadn’t been doing so hot lately. That Hammerhead cruiser’s too old, too slow—chasing down freighters, they’d still lose ‘em. So I stirred the pot, got some of the crew to mutiny, and led them to hit the hyperdrive compartment…” 

He started laughing. “But those guys were spineless. The second Kuken chewed them out over the intercom, they scurried back like scolded younglings. So I had to run for it. They sent a hundred guys after me. I took out a few in the ventilation shafts, got lucky, and ended up in the hangar bay.” 

The smile faded from Ventus’s face. Murt’s breezy tone couldn’t hide the sheer danger of what he’d been through. 

“Then I got really lucky,” Murt continued, grinning. “There was a fighter under repair in the hangar, and its proton torpedo launcher was sitting nearby, still loaded with one torpedo. So I snuck over, messed with the wiring, and—boom!—the torpedo fired! Hahaha! You should’ve seen the pirates’ faces! K greatly lost it over the intercom, executed a few guys on the spot. Then the arguing started, and the whole crew turned on each other. Hahaha!” 

Ventus’s expression turned serious. “You fired a proton torpedo inside the ship? Were you trying to get yourself killed? You could’ve died in there! Why didn’t you just take an escape pod with the others?” 

“Eh, I’m used to this kind of thing,” Murt said with a shrug. “They couldn’t take me down.” 

“You’re a legend in the Fourth Civilization, one of our banners,” Ventus said firmly. “I’d rather let that cruiser escape than risk losing you.” 

Murt’s grin faded. He turned to meet Ventus’s gaze, his voice steady. “We’ve always been dancing on the edge of a vibroblade, haven’t we? You haven’t told us everything, but I can see it—this galaxy’s way more dangerous than we ever imagined, isn’t it?” 

Ventus sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “I had a dream… about a lot of things. About the future of this galaxy. And honestly… I don’t know if I have what it takes to survive the wars that are coming.” 

“That’s my answer, then,” Murt said, a soft smile returning. “Administrator… no, my friend.” 

… 

Ventus’s main issue was overexertion from using the Force. After half a day in the medbay, he was back on his feet. 

Murt’s injuries—mostly burns and scrapes—weren’t too serious either. Normally, they’d need a few days to heal, but the engineering team found a few medical droids and several bacta tanks in the Hammerhead cruiser’s medbay. 

Bacta tanks, a staple of the Galactic Republic, were healing pods that submerged patients in a special liquid to rapidly stimulate cell regeneration and heal wounds. The engineers moved the droids and tanks to the mothership, and after a few hours soaking in bacta, Murt was nearly good as new. 

Back on the mothership’s bridge, Ventus found Clement taking stock of the battle’s spoils. Seeing him approach, Clement snapped to attention with a salute. Nearby, the strategy team, led by Qi Jian and Carls Wharton, stood in unison, saluting with genuine respect. 

In this battle, Ventus, Murt, Yuri, Vitaly, Judith, Qi Jian, and others had poured their strength and ingenuity into fighting for the Fourth Civilization. Most importantly, Ventus had made one thing clear to everyone: I’m with you, and I’ll stand or fall with you. And he’d pulled off feats no one else could. 

For a leader, nothing boosted morale more than that. 

Clement stepped forward to report. “Administrator, we’ve tallied the spoils.” 

“Go ahead,” Ventus said with a nod. 

“The biggest prize is the Hammerhead-class cruiser,” Clement began. “It’s 315 meters long, armed with two medium turbolaser cannons as its main guns, four dual turbolaser cannons as secondaries, and eight point-defense cannons—six of which were added later. The ship’s power system took a heavy hit, and repairs are tricky. The engineering team plans to swap out the entire power system with our own tech. It’ll take about three months, but we’ll need an extra 50 engineers to make it happen.” 

Chapter 65: Abundant Resources 

“Alright, I’ll get the personnel reassigned right away. I’m also waking up an elite-grade talent to lead the engineering department and setting up a logistics division. That should lighten the load on your administrative team,” Ventus said with a nod. 

He was deliberately decentralizing power to keep any one subordinate from getting too dominant. Waking Carls Wharton to join the strategy team had been part of the same plan—breaking Qi Jian’s monopoly over that department. As the colony grew, departments would specialize further, and power would spread out. Except for Ventus himself. That’s why he’d rather grind himself to the bone than wake someone to act as his second-in-command. 

Clement, blissfully unaware of these machinations, was just thrilled to have less on her plate. She continued her report: “We also scored some solid loot, including two Ministry-class shuttles. They can’t make hyperspace jumps, but they’re perfect for zipping between space and planets. Twenty meters long, they can carry 36 passengers each. With these, moving folks between the mothership and Dawn Planet just got a lot easier.” 

“Then there’s one Aurek-class fighter, damaged and left in the hangar for maintenance. It’s been handed over to Professor Chi for testing. Beyond that, just some everyday supplies. The armory got blown up by Munte, so we didn’t snag many weapons. Oh, and a decent haul of wupiupi coins and Galactic Republic credits,” Clement said, flipping through her notes. 

Ventus scoffed. “These guys were broke! A cruiser that size, and this is all the cash they had? No wonder they were desperate enough to raid us.” He leaned back. “What about the prisoners?” 

“We captured Kuken, his first mate, and 110 crew members. Munte also freed 17 civilians from the cruiser—mostly dancers and singers from the bar,” Clement replied. 

Ventus nodded. “Got it. Prep for a public trial starting tomorrow. The mothership doesn’t need to return to Dawn Planet’s synchronous orbit—keep it in deep space for now. It’ll make building a larger space station easier later. Didn’t we find massive metal deposits on the fourth moon of the Endor gas giant? Park the mothership between Dawn Planet and that moon.” 

Clement confirmed, “Right. That moon’s called Dor in Republic records. Our scans show enough metal there to build 1,000 more Kushan motherships, plus tons of rare elements. Mining’s a bit tricky, though. For now, we’re still extracting rare elements from the ocean moon.” 

Ventus smirked. The Endor system might one day become a brutal battlefield, but its perks were undeniable. In Star Wars history, the Battle of Endor happened because the Galactic Empire chose this system to build their terrifying superweapon, Death Star II—a 200-kilometer-wide fortress. Why here? The system’s insane resource wealth. 

The Endor gas giant had near-infinite helium-3 for fueling fusion reactors. The ocean moon Kef-Bir was rich with rare elements. The habitable Endor moon offered resources and space for workers and troops. And Dor, the metal moon, was packed with enough metals—common and rare—to sustain massive construction projects. 

Plus, tucked away in the unpredictable Modell sector of the Outer Rim’s western reaches, the system was rarely visited, perfect for secretive projects. 

Now, this treasure trove of a system belonged to Ventus and the Fourth Civilization. 

The next day, Ventus, Munte, Yuri, Vitali, and others boarded one of the newly captured Ministry-class shuttles, heading for Dawn Planet. 

On the way, Ventus asked Yuri what had him so shaken. 

Yuri Orlov, still rattled, lit a cigarette with trembling hands, took a deep drag, and said, “When we escaped Tatooine, none of us knew how to fly the ship. Vitali botched the controls and triggered the hyperdrive without navigation. And then…” 

His face paled, and he shook as he continued, “I swear I saw it! An octopus, hundreds of kilometers long, right there in the hyperspace rift!” 

“I think I saw it too,” Vitali mumbled, staring blankly at the cabin ceiling, cigarette dangling from his lips. 

“We got lucky,” old man Truda, traveling with them, chimed in. “Creatures like that, living in hyperspace rifts, can wipe out entire fleets. I hit the hyperdrive again, jumping blind a second time to escape. And we were damn lucky—two unguided hyperspace jumps, and we didn’t slam into a star’s mass shadow and get ripped to shreds.” 

Ventus gave a wry smile and clapped Yuri’s shoulder. “Without those proton torpedoes you brought, and the intel Munte sent, we might’ve driven Kuken off, but we’d never have captured him or his cruiser.” 

“It’s the soldiers’ sacrifices that matter most, Administrator,” Yuri said, patting Ventus’s shoulder a bit too casually. Ventus didn’t mind. “I know we didn’t time our hyperspace exit well. Those fighters gave their lives to buy us the chance to get back to the mothership.” 

Yuri took another drag, his voice soft. “But I don’t like this, Administrator. I don’t belong here. I shouldn’t be part of a battle.” 

Ventus grinned, slinging an arm around Yuri’s shoulders and giving him a shake. “I get it. You’re supposed to be the Lord of War! Haha!” His tone grew serious. “After this fight, we won’t fear anyone.” 

“Sounds like you’re full of it,” Yuri said dryly. 

“Caught me. It’s a lie. With the Galactic Republic and a war about to erupt, we can’t be too careful. We need allies,” Ventus admitted. 

“Got someone in mind?” 

“Yeah, a real pain-in-the-ass guy, but he could be a game-changer for us. No word from his end lately, though, so for now, we focus on building up at home. Check back on Tatooine when you get a chance. If it’s a bust, I’ll find someone to open new weapons markets for you. This galaxy’s never short on conflict.” 

[Bonus Chapter Image: Ministry-class orbital shuttle] 

Chapter 66: The Trial 

The shuttle touched down at Dawn City’s spaceport, where preparations had been made well in advance. 

In an open field outside the city, a towering gallows had been erected. Iron Tooth Kuken and his band of pirates were bound tightly and lined up beneath it. Alongside them, the smugglers—Marrs-Ferasi, Dubrak Qwento, Kenneth, and Spard—were also tied up and grouped together. 

Ventus stepped onto the platform with a solemn expression, gripping the microphone as he bellowed, “Today belongs to the Fourth Civilization! Once again, we’ve faced invaders! And this time…” 

He paused, scanning the fervent crowd of residents and soldiers, then roared, “We’ve triumphed!!” 

“WOOO!!” The crowd erupted in deafening cheers. 

Pointing sharply at Kuken, Ventus continued, “The mastermind behind this invasion, the one responsible for the deaths of over a dozen of our brave warriors, stands right here!!” 

The ruthless pirate was trussed up like a cargo crate, a rag stuffed in his mouth to silence him. His eyes burned with defiance. Nearing 60, Kuken was a grizzled veteran with no hope left for a future, and begging for mercy was out of the question. 

But Ventus wasn’t about to give him a chance to speak. Looming over the captives, he declared, “In the name of the Fourth Civilization, I sentence you—Iron Tooth Kuken—and the key figures of this invasion… to death!!” 

At his command, marines hauled Kuken and six other pirate leaders to the gallows. Ropes were fastened around their necks, and they were hoisted into the air. The six flailed desperately, legs kicking like startled nerfs, but it was futile. Their struggles slowed, life drained away, and soon their lifeless bodies swayed from the gallows. 

The crowd watched it all. This wasn’t the quick snap of a broken neck; it was a slow, brutal strangulation. Ventus wanted it that way, and the effect was undeniable. 

The remaining pirates were paralyzed with fear, some barely able to stand. Worse still, one spot on the gallows remained empty—a sign that Ventus wasn’t done yet. 

Meanwhile, the Fourth Civilization’s soldiers and citizens cheered wildly, their eyes gleaming with zeal as they gazed at the dangling corpses. 

Ventus raised a hand, slowly sweeping it over the captives. “Among you, there are those who betrayed us, leaking our secrets and colluding with these vicious pirates, causing us heavy losses…” 

At those words, Qwento, Ferasi, and the others broke out in cold sweats, collapsing to their knees with a thud. 

But Ventus’s finger didn’t linger on them. Instead, it settled on Kenneth. “You, Kenneth. I gave you a chance to serve the Fourth Group loyally. I gave you a good life. But all you could think about was how to steal it all away. You… deserve death.” 

Before Kenneth could react, two marines grabbed him, dragging him toward the gallows. 

“No! Don’t kill me! I had nothing to do with it! Qwento! Ferasi! Help me, please!!” Kenneth’s legs thrashed against the ground, but he couldn’t break free. The marines looped a rope around his neck. 

Qwento and Ferasi, still on their knees, stared in stunned silence, too terrified to speak. 

“You… traitors! Traitors!! Administrator, please, I’m begging you, don’t kill me! It was Qwento who tipped off Kuken, and Ferasi came up with the plan! I had no part in it! I’ll change, I swear! I’ll be loyal—I’ll be your loyal dog! Don’t kill me! Woof! Woof!” Kenneth’s pleas turned frantic, his words tumbling into madness as he barked like a beast to save his life. 

Ventus merely waved a hand. A marine yanked the rope, and Kenneth was hoisted into the air. 

As he writhed in his death throes, Qwento and Ferasi were so terrified they lost control, leaving puddles of warm liquid beneath them. 

Ventus ignored them, turning to the other pirates. “As for the rest of you, I’ll spare your lives. But you’ll serve a lifetime of hard labor. You’ll start in the mines. If you prove yourselves, you can move to the farms after three years. After ten, you might earn citizenship. Redeem yourselves with your sweat.” 

With the grim example of the hanged pirates before them, the survivors didn’t dare resist. They dropped to their knees, thanking Ventus for his mercy. 

The pirates were led away, leaving seven corpses swaying in the breeze. Only Qwento, Ferasi, Spard, and two others remained, awaiting their fate. 

Ventus turned to them, saying nothing. 

Qwento and the others trembled like leaves in a storm, unsure what awaited them. They were the ones who had passed information to Kuken—there was no denying it. If Ventus decided to string them up, it wouldn’t be a surprise. 

But Ventus’s silence was unbearable. Finally, Qwento broke, collapsing to the ground and sobbing, “Administrator, it was all my idea! Punish me, but please spare Ferasi and the others…” 

“How can I give you a chance after such betrayal?” Ventus asked coldly. 

“I’ll make it right, I swear…” Qwento started, then faltered, remembering Kenneth’s similar pleas—and his fate. He swallowed his words. 

Ventus snorted, gesturing to the marines. They approached, holding collars in their hands. They forced Qwento, Ferasi, and the others down, snapping the collars around their necks. 

“These are explosive collars,” Ventus explained. “If any of you step out of line, they’ll detonate. I don’t need to spell out what happens then. And here’s the kicker—they’re linked. If one goes off, they all do.” 

He pointed at Ferasi. “You played a key role in this mess, even if Kenneth started it. You should be hanging with Kuken and his crew. But for Qwento’s sake, I’ll let you live. You’ll spend the rest of your days in the darkest, filthiest, most grueling mine. Your dreams of soaring through the stars? They’re over. All because of your foolishness.” 

Marrs-Ferasi collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably. Whether she wept for her stupidity or her narrowly spared life, no one could say.