(A/N: In the original draft, the protagonist's arm was severed, but I decided against it, considering it too grim and unnecessary. The revised version contains two descriptions that suggest an amputation, but the arm remains intact. This note is to clarify.)
In a narrow alley on Coruscant, a cheap snack bar blended in with its neighbors. Weathered tables were scattered haphazardly, while shadowy corners hid customers who preferred to remain unseen. Behind the counter stood an Anzat, serving as both chef and bartender, while robots weaved between the tables.
The patrons were a diverse crowd: local residents grabbing a quick meal, an elderly man sipping wine alone, a drunkard surrounded by empty bottles, merchants arguing over business deals, and an unassuming figure buried in a data pad... This was a typical scene in such a small establishment.
Soft background music filled the air, while screens behind the counter cycled through war updates. The announcer's voice, monotonous yet tinged with anxiety, echoed through the speakers:
"After the Battle of Geonosis, Count Dooku's robot army seized control of several critical hyperspace lanes, effectively isolating the Republic from the Outer Rim. The Clone Army, already stretched thin, struggled to maintain a foothold in the Outer Rim, leading to an increasing number of planets siding with the Confederacy. Meanwhile, planets loyal to the Republic faced frequent attacks. The Jedi, overwhelmed by the war, were unable to maintain order, causing crime rates to skyrocket..."
The screen suddenly switched, and the announcer's voice grew more urgent:
"Breaking news: Republic forces continue to besiege Faeros, where Separatists are constructing a massive fleet. The battle has reached a stalemate. Good news from the Rattica front: the Clone Army has successfully defeated the Confederacy garrison and liberated the planet!"
"Boss! Switch to CCT Channel! Turn the volume up!"
At that moment, a Zabrak abruptly slammed down his data pad and shouted.
"What's so special about that channel?"
An Anzat wiped a glass casually, his movements languid and his tone lazy.
"Who knows what the Hutts are up to... I heard they've got some exclusive scoop."
The bartender pressed a few buttons, and the battlefield scene on the screen was replaced by the CCT Channel logo. A lively Twi'lek female news anchor appeared:
"Next, we're replaying exclusive footage from our channel! Just a reminder, this video concerns the Republic Senators' delegation visit to London... There's an attack, an escape, and scenes you definitely won't believe! Enough talk, let's see what happened!"
The screen switched to a blurry surveillance recording, showing the lightsaber duel between Solo and Ventress in the corridor of Londen Palace.
For the next few minutes, the snack shop fell completely silent, save for the hiss of the stove and the sounds of the street outside the window.
When the recording ended, the shop erupted in excitement:
"Hutt in heaven! That's insane!"
"The reporter who got this footage must be rolling in credits!"
"That Jedi isn't even human, right? He's still fighting after taking so many hits!"
"What do you know? No organic being could withstand that kind of damage. He's definitely a new model of robot!"
"Bullshit! He clearly uses the Force..."
The arguments raged on, but no one noticed the figure hunched over a data pad in the corner, discreetly slipping a datacrystal into their pocket.
***
Inside the officers' quarters of the *Star Falcon*, Grace curled up on the bed, her arms wrapped around her knees. An empty liquor bottle on the nightstand emitted a pungent alcohol odor.
Across from her, on a folding chair, Kristen held a half-empty glass, the liquid gently swaying at the bottom.
The two young officers were both deeply despondent. Kristen managed to maintain a facade of calm, but Grace had completely broken down. She had witnessed Solo being impaled by a lightsaber—a gruesome scene that haunted her even without the sight of blood.
"I thought serving in the military would mean diplomatic missions and escorting high-ranking officials—something easy and respectable..." Grace's voice cracked with tears as she turned onto her side on the bed, tightly clutching the blanket. "But this? Security forces besieging our ship, the hangar turrets nearly blowing up the frigate, clone troopers having to destroy them with rocket launchers, hundreds of B-1 battle droids attacking anyone they saw... We barely made it back to orbit. Now the General is critically injured in the infirmary. If he doesn't survive, we'll be blamed for this disaster."
"Don't worry too much. We've done everything we can," Kristen said softly, offering comfort. "We'll be at the base in just over two hours. The medical team will take care of the General."
"Wake me when we get there..." Grace's voice trailed off as she quickly fell into a deep sleep.
Kristen stood up and gently closed the door behind him.
Leaning against the corridor wall, he frowned deeply. "Wasn't today's operation to hack into Londen Palace's security system too smooth? I'm skilled at this, but not *that* skilled. Unless... someone else had already breached the system before us. Who could it be? And what was their objective?"
This question lodged in his heart like a thorn.
***
In the heart of Coruscant, Baron Papanoid sat in his opulent office, a glass of top-grade wine in hand, his eyes gleaming as he watched the skyrocketing viewership numbers on the screen.
"That kid Exagi sold me the footage for just 10,000 credits! This is exclusive news that could make history in the media industry. He sold it way too cheap!"
The Baron's rise to prominence was the stuff of legends. In his youth, he was merely an obscure playwright on Pantora. His few successful plays accumulated capital, which he used to found a media company. Step by step, he built his media empire and became a core member of the Pantoran Trade Guild.
But entertainment wasn't his ultimate goal. For years, he had used his media company as a cover to establish an intelligence organization as efficient as the Bothan spy network. Information trading was his true source of wealth.
Since the outbreak of the Clone War, the intelligence business had boomed. Trading companies, other media conglomerates, and even the Republic Intelligence Agency became his clients.
"This London footage will not only boost our ratings, but we can also sell it to the intelligence agency for a hefty sum." Papanoid took a sip of his wine, a satisfied smile curling his lips.
His business was flourishing.
***
Inside the dimly lit medical bay of the *Star Falcon*, Ahsoka sat in a chair beside the surgical bed, her gaze fixed intently on Solo, who lay motionless.
The medical droid had just finished its work, clearing away the burned tissue, applying bacta gel to the wounds, and covering them with sterile bandages.
The ship lacked sufficient universal synthetic skin. Fortunately, the journey to the base would only take a little over two hours; they should be able to hold out until they reached it.
Ahsoka's Togruta senses were exceptionally keen. She could clearly see the oxygen mask covering Solo's face, hear the beeping of the instruments, the rustling of the fabric, and even distinguish the steady yet faint rhythm of his heartbeat.
Guilt and anxiety weighed heavily on her heart. She berated herself for not being able to help her Master, feared that defying his orders would lead to even worse consequences, and worried that Solo might not survive this severe injury.
"Why wouldn't Master let me go with him? He knew Ventress was dangerous..." Ahsoka's eyes reddened as she gripped the hem of her robe tightly. "If only I were stronger, maybe I could have helped him."
***
In the conference hall of the Jedi Temple, an expanded council meeting was proceeding in orderly fashion.
At the center of the hall hung a holographic map of the galaxy, its outer rim densely marked in red—the territory controlled by the Confederacy.
In addition to Council members Yoda and Windu, the meeting was attended by Jocasta Nu, librarian of the Temple; Hiram Martin, leader of the Balance Order; Parael Harimo, head of the Precognition Corps; and Adni Mereti, director of the Archaeological Team.
The emergence of the Dark Reaper had gripped everyone's attention.
"Master Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker, confirmed the existence of the Dark Reaper on Raxus Prime," Jocasta Nu declared solemnly, standing beside the holographic map. "To obtain this intelligence, they lost a Hailfire-class attack cruiser, nearly all their equipment, and almost all their Clone Troopers. General Grenn Betty's supporting forces also suffered heavy casualties."
"The Separatists' robot legions weren't the main threat. The real danger was Count Dooku's 'Primal Destroyer.' That war machine's firepower annihilated most of the clone troopers. Master Obi-Wan used every ounce of his strength to destroy it, while Anakin was briefly captured by Dooku before managing to escape."
She summoned a data projection of the "Dark Reaper." "According to the Archives, the Dark Reaper operates using a 'Force Harvester' device. By absorbing life energy, it converts it into a lethal beam that destroys all life and objects within its range. However, it cannot harm the Force itself."
Jocasta Nu detailed the information she had found in the Archives. "Additionally, the device is equipped with turbolaser cannons powered by the Dark Side. To defeat the Dark Reaper, the ancient Jedi Knight Ulic Qel-Droma devised a method of resistance and taught other gifted members of the Warrior Order how to withstand the machine's influence."
"Our current problem is that this knowledge has been lost," Ki-Adi-Mundi said, frowning. "How should we proceed?"
Jocasta Nu added, "I found a clue in the Archives. Ulic Qel-Droma's tomb is located on Ryloth, and it may contain crucial information on how to resist the Dark Reaper."
"We must immediately inform Master Obi-Wan!" Windu declared firmly. "Sector Command needs to allocate a new ship and resources to fully support this mission."
"But we recently lost our outpost on Ryloth," Oppo Rancisis said anxiously. "Dooku likely knows about the tomb as well. We must find the information before he does."
"What has the Precognition Corps discovered?" Yoda asked Parael Harimo, his voice slow but forceful. "Can we avert this crisis?"
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