*Chapter 11: The First Legendary Figure*

“I get it… this ship’s causing the gravitational disturbances, and its signal jamming knocked out our hyperspace diverter…” Quinto muttered. “In all my years, I’ve never seen a ship this massive… Is this even a ship? Or a space station?”

“The real question is why a monster like this is lurking on the outskirts of Endor?” Felasi said, practically losing it. “If this is the case, what about Kenneth and the others?”

“Comms are completely cut off,” Spard said from behind.

“No surprise there. Their energy output is on a whole other level compared to ours. Even basic electromagnetic interference is enough to leave us blind and deaf,” Quinto said, slumping into his seat, resigned.

Just then, the massive ship’s central hangar bay opened, and a dozen small fighters zipped out, heading straight for them.

“They didn’t blast us to bits right away, so they probably want to talk. Let’s surrender. I mean, a faction with a ship this huge probably won’t bother squashing small fry like us… Look, when we meet them, we stay calm, not groveling but not cocky either. Let ’em know we’re not pushovers,” Quinto said.

“Got it. Watch me work,” Felasi whispered back.

He piloted their ship into the hangar entrance under the fighters’ escort. The hangar alone was mind-bogglingly huge. Felasi glanced at the empty landing platform, muttering, “This hangar could dock a Republic Judicial Fleet cruiser! What kind of operation is this?”

Once the ship landed, they stepped out of the cabin—only to find a squad of heavily armed soldiers waiting in formation! These guys were burly, sharp-eyed, and clearly elite, far more disciplined than the sloppy Republic soldiers Quinto’s crew was used to.

As the trio emerged, the soldiers snapped their blasters’ bolts in unison with a loud clack!—a blatant threat.

Felasi yelped, threw her hands up, and dropped to her knees. Glancing back, she saw Quinto and Spard already kneeling faster than her, hands behind their heads, poses textbook-perfect…

Ventus watched the three kneeling figures on the monitor, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. He turned to Qi Jian. “I’m guessing… these three are with the other three we nabbed earlier, right?”

“Seems like it,” Qi Jian nodded. “Administrator, you can tell just by looking—these are smugglers, no question. Their hands are dirty with who-knows-what. Lock ’em up and shoot ’em, and no one’d blink.”

“Bring them in for questioning. I’ve got some things to ask,” Ventus ordered.

The trio was soon escorted to the bridge by marines. Ventus chatted with them through a translator droid, but the info was sparse. These smugglers clearly didn’t care about galactic politics—just their wallets.

The middle-aged guy, Dubrak Quinto, was the leader of their little smuggling ring. The somewhat attractive woman, Mars Felasi, was his partner. They mostly worked for the Hutts out of Tatooine, shuttling to Endor to pick up beast pelts, gems, and other goods to sell.

“The Hutts, huh…” Ventus rubbed his chin, feeling a headache coming on.

The Hutts were an ancient species in the galaxy, looking like giant slugs. Despite their gross appearance, they were the remnants of the old Hutt Empire, with deep resources and even a formidable fleet.

After the Galactic Republic nominally absorbed the Hutt Empire, the Hutts funneled their wealth into underground ventures.

To put it bluntly, every Hutt was a crime lord—and a filthy rich one at that.

Ventus waved a hand, ordering the soldiers to haul Quinto and his crew to the brig for further language analysis. Then, on his interface for mapping timelines and faction territories, he jotted down “Hutts.”

Just then, the Mainframe pinged him. [Administrator, we’ve met the awakening conditions for one legendary figure. You can wake them directly.]

“A legendary figure? That easy?” Ventus froze at the news.

He pulled up the personnel page, and sure enough, one name in the legendary tier was lit up, ready to be awakened and pledge loyalty to him.

“Name: Trent {Note 1}, explorer, skilled in diplomacy, smuggling, starship piloting, and modification,” Ventus read aloud. “Awakening conditions: a grand stage and an excellent starship.”

The conditions were vague—potentially tough or trivially easy, depending. It showed this guy didn’t care when he was awakened; he just craved adventure.

Though the details were sparse, Ventus knew exactly who this was.

Trent! The protagonist of Freelancer!

“Wake him up and have him meet me,” Ventus ordered, then reconsidered. “Actually, I’ll go to him in the medbay.”

He headed to the medical bay, where a rugged man in a leather jacket was undergoing a checkup. He had golden hair, a handsome face with a bit of stubble, and the air of someone who’d seen it all—a walking storybook.

Spotting Ventus, he waved casually, as if they were old pals. “Hey, Administrator! You came to see me? I’m flattered! Name’s Trent. Looks like our colony’s doing pretty well under your lead.”

“You know we’re in a complex, dangerous universe—thousands of sentient species, tangled politics. I can’t afford to slack off, and I need you now. I just seized a starship, and it’s yours,” Ventus said, shaking Trent’s hand.

“Haha, I already saw the ship’s specs in the core computer. It’s a beauty! I can’t wait to dive into this kind of stage,” Trent laughed, his grin infectious.

He had a natural charm, instantly hitting it off with anyone. As he chatted with Ventus, he smoothly shifted to flirting with a nearby nurse, cracking jokes that had her giggling uncontrollably.

But Ventus wasn’t marveling at Trent’s game. His heart was racing. Trent might not be a household name, but his skills were unreal! A citizen of Britannia in Freelancer, he’d single-handedly thwarted the Nomad invasion, saving the Sirius Sector from war.

He’d roamed the cosmos alone, starting from nothing, fighting in wars, foiling conspiracies. He even flew solo into the Nomad stronghold, snatching their core—essentially taking on an entire interstellar species single-handedly!

His piloting, wits, courage, adaptability, and knack for navigating factions were the stuff of legends.

With him on board, Ventus’s next steps just got a lot more feasible.

They talked in the medbay for a bit. Trent’s checkup confirmed he was fine post-hibernation, and he soon headed to the hangar to inspect the YT-1000 light freighter.

Yup, that ship, seized when it entered the mothership, was now Tang’s—and he’d handed it straight to Trent.

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*[Easter Egg Image 1: Trent, Protagonist of Freelancer]*