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*Chapter 35: Rising to the Top*

The warriors stood solemnly, guiding the caskets holding the remains of the fallen onto the conveyor belt for cremation. Their ashes would be laid to rest in the soil of Ryloth—the new home they’d fought for, the home of the Fourth Civilization.

Returning to the earth was the ultimate wish of every soul and would become the most sacred ritual of the Fourth Civilization.

Watching the scene unfold, Ventus felt a fire burning in his chest, a restless energy he couldn’t hold back. He was supposed to stand in silent mourning, but he knew he owed something more—to the martyrs who’d given their lives and to the living who carried on.

“…Fate brought us together on this mothership. Fate dragged us into this unknown galaxy, throwing challenge after challenge our way. And fate led those ruthless pirates to our doorstep when we were barely getting started.

“We could complain about every twist of fate, but let me remind you all: fate has never told us to give up.”

Ventus’s gaze swept over the crowd before he continued. “If someone asks me whether I believe in fate, I’d say yes—and no.

“I believe there’s a grand design out there, some invisible hand pulling the strings of the galaxy. But I don’t believe anyone or anything gets to decide our future! Raise your hands, and the universe is yours to shape. Take a step, and the path to tomorrow is under your feet!

“If someone says it’s my destiny to stumble, I’ll tell them I’ll walk steadier than anyone else! If my feet fail, I’ll use my hands. If my hands aren’t enough, I’ll grab the hands of every single one of you! But we will never fall. We will never bow to so-called fate!

“The Fourth Civilization has been through hell! Three cataclysms stripped us of everything—our galaxy, our Earth, our home. But now, here we are, in this new universe!

“We will not fail again!

“We will fight without end!

“And we will rise again!

“Because we are the Fourth Civilization!”

With that, Ventus stepped down from the platform, cradling an urn of ashes in his hands. He raised it high and declared, “To the 42 martyrs—and to the countless others who will follow!”

“To the martyrs!” the crowd roared in unison, standing at attention, saluting, their eyes shimmering with tears.

On either side, soldiers worked the bolts of their blasters, firing crisp volleys into the air to honor the fallen.

Ventus met the crowd’s fervent gazes, taking a deep breath. A faint spark seemed to flicker in his palm.

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On a sunlit hillside on Ryloth, lush grass swayed in the gentle breeze, the air alive with the scent of nature. Ventus stood at the crest, silently gazing at the 42 new graves before him. Each bore a headstone shaped like the four-armed spiral of the galaxy, engraved with the names and deeds of the fallen.

The deeper he sank into his role as leader, the more Ventus felt himself becoming part of this world. Especially now, facing these 42 sacrifices, he realized he could no longer stand on the sidelines. He was grieving, raging, despairing, and hoping—all for the people of this galaxy.

He was one of them now.

Looking up, he saw the massive gas giant Endor dominating the sky. He murmured to himself, “You brought me to this universe. What do you want me to do?”

But he didn’t wait for an answer that might never come. His eyes drifted downward to a thriving town in the distance.

Dawn City, a settlement on the rise.

Gone were the days of shantytowns. Four- and five-story buildings were popping up, flanked by towering wind turbines with slender blades spinning lazily in the breeze.

At the base of the distant mountains, a mining operation was up and running. A steel mill and processing plants churned away, their tall smokestacks puffing out purified white vapor. Trucks loaded with goods rumbled between the mines, factories, and the city.

By the lakeside, four massive hydroponic farms—each over 50 meters wide—stood under domed glass, mimicking Earth’s climate to grow its crops.

Out on the lake, a dozen fishing boats cast their nets, hauling in the planet’s seemingly endless supply of fish. The lake connected to Ryloth’s underground water network, giving access to every species the planet had to offer.

Open-air farms and livestock ranches sprawled on the city’s other side, where hardworking farmers operated advanced machinery.

Then there was the giant waste processor tucked away in a hidden canyon. All the city’s and factories’ sewage, waste, and—yes—excrement was handled there. Naturally, that area was off-limits to anyone with a nose.

Still, on a planet with Ryloth’s unique terrain, the processor kept pollution in check. Just… don’t let it explode. Better to ship that stuff into space or dump it into a star.

Dawn City’s population had surpassed 5,000. Infrastructure was taking shape—fire stations, security offices, water and power utilities, and administrative departments were all operational.

Two schools had even opened, though they weren’t for kids yet. With most residents being working-age adults and adopted frozen embryos learning via data uploads, the schools were technical institutes. One taught specialized skills for residents looking to expand their expertise; the other focused on Galactic Basic. Plans for a children’s school were in the works, but with construction demands everywhere, they’d been pushed back.

The city had hit a bottleneck, though. The mothership’s modular building kits were used up. New structures would have to be built from local materials, and things like cement, rebar, factory equipment, and parts would require new production facilities.

Ventus descended the hill and entered Dawn City. The place buzzed with order and purpose, every resident throwing themselves into their work. There was always more to do, but seeing the city grow day by day filled everyone with pride.

This was their home.

“Hello, Administrator!”

“We salute you!”

“Administrator, our farm just grew these pumpkins. Want to try one?”

As Ventus walked through, residents greeted him warmly but didn’t slack off. They paused to bow or salute, then dove right back into their tasks.

Ventus smiled and returned every greeting, quietly resolving in his heart:

I will protect these people. I will lead them to the top of the galaxy!

*Chapter 36: The Mansion*

Ventus strode into Dawn City’s municipal hall, where Graham was leading an administrative team to keep the city running smoothly. Graham’s group handled the nitty-gritty details, while Daphne Clement’s team focused on big-picture planning. Clement also oversaw space-based construction projects, occasionally diverting resources from the interstellar mining stations to support Dawn City.

This time, Ventus was here to talk about the master-level aerospace scientist. This expert’s knowledge spanned everything from engines to energy systems, aerodynamics, and materials science. But the catch? He demanded a luxurious standalone residence, a massive testing facility with a wind tunnel, and a seasoned research team.

Ventus needed to meet these conditions fast to wake the scientist and have him lead Feng Yongwang’s team in speeding up the Phantom fighter’s development. Days had passed with no progress, and after the bounty hunter attack, Ventus was on edge. The wake-up call was clear: the Homeworld tech available to the mothership, especially the basic stuff, was light-years behind the Star Wars universe. Their ships didn’t stand a chance against the galaxy’s spacecraft.

To protect the mothership and Dawn Star, the Phantom fighter had to be combat-ready ASAP.

“Administrator, I’m so sorry,” Graham said, sweating profusely. “We’ve got construction crews working overtime on the testing facility, and the mothership’s factories are churning out lab equipment. But… the luxurious mansion? We just don’t have anything like that.”

“A mansion is harder to pull off than a lab full of high-tech gear?” Ventus frowned, clearly unimpressed.

“It’s the furniture, decorations, carpets, chandeliers, antiques—we don’t have a clue where to get that stuff!” an admin stammered, wiping his brow.

Ventus blinked, almost blurting out, “Are you sh—” He caught himself, took a deep breath, and sighed. “It’s 1202, people. Why are you still hung up on chandeliers and fancy rugs?”

The solution hit him instantly.

“Uh… your wisdom’s beyond us, Administrator,” the admin said, bowing his head. “Please, guide us.”

“Let’s go check out this so-called mansion,” Ventus said, waving them along.

Graham and a few admins scurried after him, leading the way.

They arrived at a plot on the outskirts of Dawn City, near a lake and an open-air farm—a scenic spot, no question. A two-story villa stood there, elegantly designed with clear effort from the architect. But inside? Completely bare. The rooms were empty, and the backyard had a half-dug pool.

“Administrator, this—”

“Enough,” Ventus cut Graham off, gesturing at the space. “We all came from concrete jungles. Who says luxury means velvet carpets and crystal chandeliers? These days, it’s about getting back to nature. You think those corrupt—er, I mean, rich folks—aren’t buying up estates in the countryside?”

The admins whipped out notepads, scribbling furiously.

Ventus stepped to a window, pointing at the untouched, natural landscape outside. “A mansion needs to embrace nature! See those wildflowers? Get a crew to transplant them here. A single pot? That’s for decorating a bathroom! I want every room surrounded by a ring of flowers!”

He continued, “The exterior walls—no tiles, no paint, right? See those vines on that tree? Pull them over and wrap the whole house. One layer’s not enough—make it two! And get someone to build a few bird nests by the windows. Waking up to birdsong and flowers? Way fancier than some gaudy chandelier.”

“And the pool! Grab some water plants from the lake and toss them in. Then get the fishermen to catch some bright-colored fish. Arrange the plants in a heart shape—call it romantic.”

“Furniture? Easy. Real wood’s all the rage. Chop down a few trees from the forest—boom, solid wood. No gold-threaded nanmu? This is Dawn Star, not Earth! Use that red-barked tree over there. Chop it down.”

“Who told you to strip the bark and branches? Keep them! We’re going full natural. Cut a log, split it in half, slap some legs on it—there’s your table. Eco-friendly and green as it gets.”

“The floor? Can’t do wood flooring? Fine, but smooth it out and remove the bark. Lay down some rugs. Where do we get rugs? Didn’t I see someone shearing Ewoks yesterday? Trade them some chocolate for a heap of fur, glue it together—done.”

“Beds? No problem. Back to nature, got it? The agriculture team was weeding yesterday, right? Grab some fresh grass, pile it around the bed, then cover it with wheat stalks. Hey, watch your mouth! Who said this looks like a pigsty? Graham, dock this guy’s pay for half a month. Ahem, if wheat stalks feel too basic, go for furs. Furs are high-class, right?”

“Furs… yeah, furs! The marines were hunting those dangerous animals the other day, weren’t they? Have them hunt a few more. Get a sharpshooter—aim for the eyes or mouth, don’t ruin the pelts. Skin them whole and spread them on the bed. Keep the heads—that’s the centerpiece! Leave the skulls too.”

“Picture it: every night, surrounded by the scent of plants, the aroma of grain, sleeping on a fierce beast’s pelt. That’s status! That’s luxury! Go check the city center—houses like this would cost a fortune. 100,000 credits a square meter? That’s the starting bid! What’s that? You want one too? Nah, I’ll rough it on the mothership.”

*Chapter 37: A New Legend!*

After a tour of the city, the administrators’ notepads were brimming with notes. Ventus clapped Guraham on the shoulder and said, “Got it? This is how you build a luxury estate. If we awaken any more big shots like this, stick to this standard. I want top-notch service—fresh ingredients only! Water the plants, fertilize them regularly. If you’re short on fertilizer, hit up the Public Health Department. They’ve got that massive waste processor; they’re swimming in the stuff. Point is, make sure these VIPs feel like they’re one with nature, living the real high life!”

“Yes, sir! I’ll make it happen!” Guraham nodded eagerly.

Guraham was quick on the uptake. By the time Ventus stepped out of the villa, he saw workers already hauling in wildflowers and vines from the surrounding area.

“What’s that over there?” Ventus asked, pointing to several towering cranes at the foot of the nearby mountains. “Any major construction projects in the city lately?”

“We’re planning to build a firearms factory in the industrial zone,” Guraham replied. “It’ll produce our Type-21 assault rifles, along with 5.56mm rounds and 30mm grenade launcher ammo.”

“No plans for blasters? What about those blaster rifles we captured? Can we mass-produce those?” Ventus asked.

“That was Chief of Staff Qi Jian’s call after comparing the options,” Guraham explained. “Laser weapons are tricky—our infrared laser tech has wavelengths that are too long, so they scatter too much in atmosphere. Not great for combat. Blasters are solid, but our techs figured out their ammo is this weird, highly flammable gas—way more volatile than tibanna. Until we can reliably source that gas, blaster production’s a no-go.”

Ventus nodded. He remembered their skirmish near Roon, when that Farlin woman tried to double-cross them. Their assault rifles’ high rate of fire had overwhelmed the bounty hunters’ blaster pistols.

Bullets or blasters, didn’t matter. If it could take down an enemy, it was good enough.

After spending the night in Dawn City, Ventus, accompanied by a T-850, found a scenic spot to sit and take in the view.

For the record, this was a brand-new T-850. The old one had taken too much damage and was currently being patched up in the mothership’s repair bay.

Ventus took a deep breath, soaking in the natural surroundings. He’d noticed before that his connection to the Force recharged quickly in places like this. In space, though, it felt stifled, recovering at a snail’s pace.

Lately, he’d also gained new insights into using the Force. When his emotions ran high, the Force within him grew wilder, more volatile.

He didn’t like that. Letting his emotions steer him could lead to impulsive decisions—dangerous ones. In his position, a single rash move could leave bodies in his wake.

So, he sat cross-legged, almost instinctively. He’d seen monks meditate like this in holovids; maybe it would help him focus.

Feel the nature… the earth, the air, the grass, the trees, the startled birds, the scampering creatures.

“Administrator,” the T-850’s low, monotone voice cut in. “You’ve been meditating for four hours. During that time, you received two calls from Guraham, four from the Mainframe, and one from Clement.”

Ventus opened his eyes, exhaling a cloudy breath. With a flick of his wrist, a stone floated into his hand, and he caught it smoothly. Pleased with his progress, he smiled faintly and said, “Patch me through to the Mainframe.”

The T-850 handed him a wireless earpiece. The Mainframe’s voice came through: [Administrator, another Legendary Figure has met the conditions for awakening. They can be activated now.]

Ventus’s eyes lit up. “Got it! I’m heading back to the mothership on the next transport!”

On the way, he couldn’t wait to pull up the personnel list to see which Legendary Figure was ready.

He’d started to notice a pattern. These “Legendary Figures” were all characters from the movies, shows, and games he’d known back on Earth—larger-than-life figures, each a master in their field.

Take Munte, for example. His piloting skills were unreal. He’d flown a YT-1000 light freighter through a gauntlet of three Munificent-class frigates and dozens of Vulture droid fighters, slipping their blockade like it was nothing.

And even in the short time he’d been active, Munte had a knack for winning people over. No matter their faction or species, he used his charm and wit to build rapport and gather intel.

The only thing holding Munte back was the Fourth Civilization’s fledgling state. They were still rebuilding, which kept him grounded. But Ventus was certain that once Munte was free to roam the galaxy, he’d bring back game-changing results.

That’s why Ventus had been hesitant to awaken that other Legendary Figure—the one whose name alone carried a terrifying weight. The potential was immense, but so was the risk.

Now, before he’d even worked up the nerve to deal with that figure, a second Legendary Figure was ready to be awakened. A total surprise—and a welcome one!

But when he linked to the mothership’s system through the chip in his brain and opened the Legendary Figures list, his smile froze.

He knew this person, of course.

And they were undeniably powerful.

But this person… they were a gray area.

Not that they were evil. In fact, they could be decent, even easy to get along with. But their actions had led to the deaths of tens of thousands. And they held the power to decide the fates of countless more.

Not through armies or authority, but through… deals.

They walked the line between justice and corruption, light and dark. Every moment was a battle against their own desires, and every time, they gave in. Each step toward darkness brought them anguish and regret, yet they kept walking, unflinching.

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