Chapter 8: I Need Help!

“We’re Corellian merchants,” the cylindrical droid translated, word by word, with a mechanical precision. “We seek furs, rare metals. Please, let us go home.”

Next to the droid, the three captured militants slumped over the table, groaning weakly, occasionally muttering a single word between pained breaths.

Ventus sat across from them in the interrogation room, one leg crossed over the other, watching their performance with a neutral expression. Behind him stood a T-850, its face as blank as a Coruscant skyscraper, maintaining a perfect military stance—feet shoulder-width apart, hands clasped behind its back.

A full Earth standard day had passed—24 hours of relentless questioning. Under the Mainframe’s directives and the marines’ not-so-gentle encouragement, the three militants had been forced to spew endless streams of words for linguistic analysis. They’d probably spoken more in this single day than in their entire lives combined, including their infant wails.

The analysis of the so-called Galactic Standard language was now over 40% complete, enough for basic conversation. But deciphering the alphabet, grammar, and syntax would take more time.

The militants, oblivious to the grim future awaiting them, kept up their act, playing the part of pitiful victims. They hoped Ventus—young, seemingly approachable—might take pity and let them go.

Ventus ignored their theatrics. He turned to the translator droid. “Where’s the capital of the Galactic Empire?”

The three captives blinked, confused by the translation. One of them corrected, “The Galactic Republic, not Empire. Coruscant. That’s the capital.”

“Who leads the Jedi Order?” Ventus pressed.

The trio exchanged blank looks, shaking their heads. They didn’t know.

Fair enough. During the Republic era, the Jedi were revered but discreet, quietly safeguarding the galaxy. To the average citizen, they were more legend than reality.

Ventus rephrased his question. “Who’s the Speaker of the Galactic Senate?”

This time, they hesitated, thinking it over. One finally answered, “Finis Valorum.”

Ventus’s expression shifted. One last question. “Has there been a war on Naboo?”

The three shook their heads.

Without a word, Ventus stood and strode out of the interrogation room, heading for the bridge.

[The Administrator has left. Let’s continue. Next, describe the appearance of this cat with the most precise language possible.] The Mainframe’s voice echoed as a group of burly marines stepped into the room, sneering at the captives. Moments later, agonized wails erupted from the interrogation chamber.

Back on the bridge, Ventus sank into the command chair, leaning back and staring at the ceiling of the control center, lost in thought. He’d narrowed down the timeline of this Star Wars universe to a 20-year window, but the realization brought no comfort.

As a Star Wars fan, Ventus had studied the lore extensively before his unexpected trip to this galaxy. Finis Valorum’s tenure as Supreme Chancellor marked the Republic’s most chaotic years—a period of unprecedented war and upheaval that would engulf every corner of the galaxy. The Galactic Republic, with its millennia-long history, would meet its end.

Ventus sifted through his memories of the Star Wars saga. Valorum was still Chancellor, and the war on Naboo hadn’t yet erupted. This was a critical juncture.

The Battle of Naboo would lead to Valorum’s ousting, paving the way for Sheev Palpatine to become Chancellor. Then, through his machinations, the galaxy would spiral into division and war within a decade of Naboo’s conflict.

The Outer Rim’s exploited worlds would form the Confederacy of Independent Systems, clashing with the Republic in a three-year conflict known as the Clone Wars, named for the Republic’s mass-produced clone troopers.

Palpatine, perhaps the greatest schemer in Star Wars history, orchestrated it all. He used the war to dismantle the Republic, eradicate the Jedi Order, and crush the Outer Rim’s rebellion. From the Republic’s ashes, he would crown himself Emperor, transforming the Republic into the Galactic Empire. {Note 1}

Ventus sighed, his head throbbing.

Why did it have to be this era? Palpatine was a master manipulator, a political genius, and a powerhouse in both personal strength and influence. In every way—politics, schemes, resources—Palpatine outclassed him. How was he supposed to survive?

“Join him? Serve the Empire as one of the Emperor’s pawns?” Ventus considered the idea seriously for a moment before sighing again. “No way. He’d seize the mothership, plunder the database, and take everything…”

He glanced at the bustling crew in the command center, muttering to himself, “I need help. Someone who can stand against Palpatine… a politician. Yes, a politician!”

In the Star Wars universe, the Galactic Senate still held sway—at least for now. What did that mean? You didn’t need a Force-wielder who could crush armies single-handedly. No matter how strong you were, you couldn’t outmatch a Death Star or a Star Destroyer. But a skilled politician? A few well-chosen words could command fleets of Star Destroyers.

The Galactic Republic was a democracy so idealistic it bordered on absurd. In such a system, even with limited strength, a brilliant politician could secure immense advantages.

Ventus glanced at Clement and Qiiji’s backs, shaking his head slightly.

They wouldn’t cut it.

Clement’s expertise lay elsewhere; she wasn’t suited for politics. Qiiji, a staff officer from an ordinary background, had potential but was still too green.

He’d noticed a pattern: most ordinary-tier individuals were young, elite-tier slightly older, and master-tier often included grizzled veterans in their 50s or 60s. The tier system reflected current achievements, meaning with time and experience, an ordinary-tier person could rise to master-tier.

But training talent was one thing. To challenge Palpatine—no, even to think about that, Ventus first needed a seat at the galactic table. Only then could he talk about facing anyone.

He needed a master-tier politician. Someone who could expand their influence at home while securing advantages in the Republic’s political arena.

Taking a deep breath, Ventus began scrolling through the list of personnel he could awaken. Suddenly, he noticed a change. The list used to show ordinary, elite, and master tiers, followed by three question marks.

Now, one of those question marks had been replaced—with legendary tier!

Legendary-tier individuals!

“Mainframe!” Ventus exclaimed. “When did the legendary tier unlock?”

[After your awakening, Administrator. Without significant power, legendary-tier individuals—and those beyond—would not pledge loyalty to you. Forcing their awakening could spark chaos. At this level, every individual has the potential to cause such disruption, or worse.]

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{Note 1}: This covers the main events of the Star Wars prequel trilogy and the animated series The Clone Wars.