Location: Nar Shaddaa
Time: 5 BBY, three months after receiving the report on technological regulation
Alex woke up to an emergency signal from a secure communicator. The display flashed the code "Golden-1"—his most valuable agent in Coruscant's government circles. The message was extremely brief: "Critically important documents. Meeting in one hour at Omega-7."
After receiving the report on technological regulation after Ruusan, Alex tasked all his agents and Luten's agents to intensify their search for additional information about the elite's long-term plans. Perhaps "Golden-1" had found something important.
An hour later, Alex was sitting in one of Nar Shaddaa's most secure rooms—a bunker deep beneath the moon's surface, where meetings were held only for the transfer of the most secret data. "Golden-1" looked agitated, but not in the usual way when transmitting critically important information.
"Alex, I have leads, but not the documents themselves," the agent said, handing over a datapad. "I found mentions of two recordings that could shed light on the true scale of the conspiracy."
"What recordings?"
"According to official correspondence, there are two audio recordings of secret meetings. Both were addressed to Master Dooku when he was still a Jedi and considered one of the leaders of the Order's progressive faction."
Alex activated the datapad and studied the information. The official records of the Senate Chancellery mentioned:
"Analytical Report of the Council of Stars on the Failure of the Millennium Plan: Causes and Consequences"—an audio recording of a closed meeting of the analytical commission.
"Minutes of the Council of Stars Meeting on Galactic Restructuring"—a recording of an extraordinary session with the participation of top leadership.
"Where are the recordings stored?" Alex asked.
"That's the problem," Golden-1 shook his head. "Officially, they were transferred to Master Dooku for 'familiarization and preparation of recommendations.' After his defection to the separatists, all traces were lost."
"So, the recordings could have remained in Dooku's personal archives?"
"Possibly. But where to look for them? Officially, the Count has been dead for fourteen years."
Alex pondered. If the recordings truly existed and contained critical information, their search could take months or years. A different approach was needed.
"Thank you for the information," he said finally. "I know what to do."
Location: Ancient Rakatan Communications Station
Time: 5 BBY, a week after meeting the agent
Alex returned to the abandoned Rakatan communications station—one of the few ancient civilization sites specifically designed for intercepting and analyzing communications. For thousands of years, it had silently recorded all hyperspace signals passing through this region of the galaxy.
The station didn't contain the specific records he was looking for, but it offered something more valuable — the ability to analyze decades of communication data.
Alex connected his analytical cluster to the ancient systems and began his work. The task was complex: among the quadrillions of sentient beings in the galaxy, he had to find the unique communication pattern of one individual — Count Dooku.
He uploaded all known locations of Dooku across various periods into the system. Serenno — his homeworld. Coruscant — during his service in the Jedi Order. Geonosis — the Separatist headquarters. Hundreds of other planets where the Count had appeared for diplomatic or military affairs.
Several days were spent calibrating the search algorithms. Then, the painstaking work of isolating the unique hyperlane connection pattern began.
Every user of the galactic communication network had their own "digital fingerprint" — a combination of equipment technical parameters, session frequency and duration, and geographical connection patterns. Even with encryption, this metadata remained visible.
After a week of continuous work, the analytical cluster produced a result. A unique communication pattern corresponding to Count Dooku was detected and traced through time.
The most interesting part began after the Count's official death. The pattern didn't disappear — it continued to appear in the station's logs, but much less frequently and from different coordinates.
Alex studied the data. Most of the connections originated from a system in the Unknown Regions, the coordinates of which were not marked on any official map. Judging by the signal's technical parameters, it was a large base with powerful communication equipment.
"Either Dooku is alive, or someone is using his equipment," Alex muttered, saving the coordinates.
The secret base was an eight-day flight from the communication station. If the Count's personal archives were indeed preserved there, the records he sought might be among them.
Location: Count Dooku's Secret Base, Unknown Regions System
Time: 5 BBY, two weeks after discovering the coordinates
Alex brought his ship out of hyperspace at the edge of an unnamed system. Verena sat beside him in the co-pilot's seat, intently studying the scanner readings.
"Energy signatures are minimal, but stable," she reported. "Life support systems are active. Someone is maintaining this station."
Before them stretched emptiness — no planets, no asteroids, only sparse dust clouds and the faint radiation of an ancient star. But the scanners showed a different picture. In the center of the system, hidden by cloaking fields, was a massive space station.
"Late Republic architecture with Separatist modifications," Alex identified. "Definitely Dooku's base. But why is it still functioning?"
"Maybe the Count isn't as dead as everyone thinks?" Verena suggested.
"Or he left automatic defense systems. In any case, we need to be ready for resistance."
Alex activated the internal comms: "IG-88 unit, report."
In the ship's cargo bay, a hundred IG-88 assassin droids activated. Alex had acquired them from smugglers a few months ago and significantly modified them. Each droid was armed with a heavy blaster rifle, a grenade launcher, and a set of EMP grenades for combating enemy droids.
"Ready to carry out the mission," the lead droid reported in a mechanical voice.
"Objective: clear the station of hostile elements. Priority: protect organic allies. All weapon types are authorized."
"Understood. Initiating combat protocols."
Alex cautiously approached the base and docked with one of the small hangars. The docking clamps reacted automatically, but as soon as the ship was secured, an alarm signal swept through the station.
"Unauthorized intrusion detected," a mechanical voice announced. "Defense protocols are activating."
"There's the answer to our question," Alex grinned grimly. "Droids, advance!"
The IG-88 unit was the first to storm the airlock. As soon as they crossed the station's threshold, B1 battle droids — standard Separatist models, but in excellent condition — emerged from side alcoves.
"Halt! Identify yourself!" one of the B1s demanded.
The response was a volley of heavy blaster fire. The IG-88 droids opened fire simultaneously, turning the corridor into a hell of energy discharges. The B1 battle droids attempted to take cover behind improvised barricades, but their light armor couldn't withstand the powerful shots.
"Hostile targets neutralized," the lead IG-88 reported. "Continuing sweep."
Alex and Verena followed the droids deeper into the station. The corridors were wide and high, decorated in the style of aristocratic luxury. But every turn could hide an ambush.
And the ambushes didn't take long to appear. On the second level, the unit encountered a group of droidekas — spherical battle droids with powerful shield generators. They deployed into combat configuration and opened heavy fire.
"The shields are too strong!" one of the IG-88s reported, taking cover behind a column. "Standard armament is ineffective!"
"Use EMP grenades!" Alex ordered.
The droids simultaneously threw electromagnetic grenades. Explosions swept through the corridor, and the droidekas' shields flickered, then shut down. The next volley of heavy blaster fire turned them into a pile of scrap metal.
"Effective," Verena assessed, examining the wreckage. "But how many more are there?"
The answer came on the third level. Massive doors at the end of the corridor opened, and twenty magna-guards emerged — elite security droids with electrostaffs and reinforced armor.
"Invasion of private property is punishable by death," one of them announced in a voice surprisingly similar to Count Dooku's. "Surrender, and your death will be swift."
"As if we have a choice," Alex muttered. "Droids, concentrated fire!"
The magna-guards proved to be serious opponents. Their armor withstood direct hits, and their electrostaffs could disable a droid with a single strike. Ten IG-88s attempted to engage in close combat and were instantly deactivated by high-voltage discharges.
"They are too fast for direct combat," the lead droid reported. "Tactical retreat required."
"No," Alex studied the corridor's layout. "See the ventilation grates in the ceiling? Toss EMP grenades in there. An explosion in a confined space will amplify the effect."
The plan worked. The grenades exploded directly above the magna-guards, and a powerful electromagnetic pulse disabled their systems. The immobilized droids became easy targets for the heavy blasters.
"The path is clear," IG-88 reported. "Casualties: ten battle droids. The rest are ready to continue the mission."
Further resistance weakened. Only isolated patrol droids were encountered, which were quickly destroyed by the superior forces of the unit. But Alex didn't relax — the most interesting part was yet to come.
In the central section, they discovered Count Dooku's private quarters. The massive polished metal doors were locked by a complex system of code locks, but Alex's hacker bypassed them in a few minutes.
The room was astonishing in its splendor. High ceilings, panoramic windows with a view of the stars, exquisite finishing in the style of old Serenno aristocracy. But the main attraction was the treasures displayed throughout the room.
Along the walls were shelves with hundreds of holocrons — ancient Jedi and Sith recording devices. Some of them glowed, indicating they were active. Nearby were lightsabers from various eras — a collection worth a fortune.
"Force!" Verena whispered, examining one of the holocrons. "These are holocrons! It says they belong to Master Kreia. She lived three thousand years ago!"
"And this is Exar Kun's lightsaber," Alex added, examining the ancient artifact. "Dooku assembled a museum of Force history here."
Special display cases held rare kyber crystals, ancient manuscripts in forgotten languages, and artifacts of unknown origin. The total value of the collection could be hundreds of billions of credits.
"We can't leave this here," Alex said. "Droids, begin loading. All holocrons, lightsabers, and crystals first. Manuscripts and artifacts second."
"Executing," the droids began carefully packing the treasures into protective containers.
In the corner of the room stood a personal terminal — a massive console with multiple displays and interfaces. Alex activated the system and began examining the file structure.
Most of the data pertained to the Clone Wars — military plans, diplomatic correspondence, agent reports. But among them, he discovered two files that made his heart beat faster:
"Audio Recording_CouncilOfSix_AnalyticalReport.holo"
"Audio Recording_CouncilOfSix_EmergencySession.holo"
"Here they are," he whispered, copying the files to his datapad. "Recordings that could change everything."
"What are they?" Verena asked, approaching the terminal.
"Evidence of a conspiracy that has been going on for a thousand years. If these recordings contain what I think they do, we've found the key to understanding the Empire's true goals."
The droids finished loading the main valuables. The containers with holocrons and lightsabers were ready for transport. Alex also copied the entire database from the terminal — perhaps other important information was hidden among the military plans.
"Alex," Verena pointed to the adjacent rooms, "there are a few more rooms there. Maybe we should check?"
They explored the adjoining chambers and discovered the Count's personal laboratory, a library with rare books, and even a small treasury with precious metals and gems. The droids methodically packed everything valuable.
In one of the hangars, they found Dooku's personal ships — an elegant "Solar Sailer" transport and twenty modified starfighters. All in excellent condition, ready for immediate departure.
"Are we taking the ships?" Verena asked.
"No, too conspicuous. But we can take the fuel and spare parts. Droids, dismantle all valuable components."
After several hours, the loading was complete. Alex's ship's cargo bays were filled with containers of priceless artifacts. Holocrons of ancient masters, lightsabers of legendary warriors, the rarest kyber crystals — a collection that could fund an entire rebel army.
"Mission accomplished," the lead IG-88 reported. "Hostile forces neutralized. Valuables seized. Minimal losses."
"Excellent work," Alex praised. "Let's return to the ship."
As they left the station, he cast a final glance at Count Dooku's now-empty quarters. Somewhere here, amidst the luxury and ancient artifacts, events were planned that changed the fate of the galaxy. Now he had the recordings that could reveal the conspirators' true motives.
"Where to now?" Verena asked as they undocked from the station.
"To Nar Shaddaa. It's time to learn the truth about what happened in the highest echelons of power thirty-three years ago," Alex activated the navigation computer. "And decide what to do with this knowledge."
The ship jumped into hyperspace, carrying away Count Dooku's treasures and the recordings that could change the course of history. Behind them, an empty station remained — a silent witness to a conspiracy that had been ongoing for a thousand years.
Location: Secure Bunker, Nar Shaddaa
Time: 5 BBY, one day after returning from Dooku's base
Alex sat in his most secure shelter, surrounded by containers of Count Dooku's treasures. The holocrons of ancient masters glowed dimly in the semi-darkness, and the lightsabers of legendary warriors rested in special stands. But all these priceless artifacts took a backseat — his attention was fully focused on the two audio files copied from the Count's personal terminal.
Verena settled into the adjacent chair, carefully examining the catalog of captured treasures on her datapad.
"Preliminary estimate of the collection is about eighty billion credits," she reported. "And that's just what can be valued based on open sources. Some holocrons are priceless."
"Money can wait," Alex waved dismissively, not taking his eyes off the screen. "What's more important now is to understand what Dooku knew about the elite's plans."
He checked the file metadata again. Both recordings were made twenty-nine years ago. The creation time indicated early morning Coruscant time, which corresponded to closed sessions in government circles.
"The recording quality is excellent," he noted, examining the technical parameters. "Professional equipment, no interference. Someone really wanted every word to be heard clearly."
Verena looked up from her datapad: "Are you sure you want to listen? Sometimes knowledge can be a curse."
Alex pondered her words. In the past few months, he had learned enough to understand that the galaxy was not governed by the forces visible on the surface. There was a shadow elite planning events centuries in advance. But the scale of this conspiracy still remained a mystery.
"We've already gone too deep to stop now," he finally said. "If the elite has truly controlled the galaxy for a thousand years, then people have a right to know about it."
"And what will you do with this information? Publish it on the HoloNet? Give it to the Rebel Alliance?"
"I don't know yet. First, we need to understand what we're dealing with."
Alex activated the bunker's additional security systems. If the recordings contained truly critical information, even listening to them could be dangerous. The interference jammers worked at full power, blocking any attempts at external eavesdropping.
"Let's start with the analytical report," he decided, moving the cursor to the first file. "Usually, such documents contain a general overview of the situation."
"Wait," Verena stood up and walked to the holocron shelf. "Maybe we should first study what the ancient masters said about such conspiracies? That holocron of Master Kreia — she specialized in political intrigue."
"No," Alex shook his head. "Ancient sources will give us a philosophical perspective on the problem. I need concrete facts, names, plans. Something we can use here and now."
He checked the recording systems again. Everything they were about to hear would be automatically saved in encrypted form and duplicated on multiple media. If something happened to them, the information should not be lost.
"We're recording everything under 'Top Secret'," he said, adjusting the parameters. "Access only with my personal code and Luten's code."
"And if both of us are gone?"
"Then in a year, the recordings will be automatically transferred to 'Gold-1' and thirty of our best agents. They'll decide what to do with it."
Verena returned to her chair and prepared to listen. Silence fell in the bunker, broken only by the quiet hum of the life support and defense systems.
"Ready," she nodded.
Alex took a deep breath and moved the cursor to the first file — "Analytical Report of the Council of Six on the Failure of the Thousand-Year Plan: Causes and Consequences." His hand paused for a moment over the touch panel.
Whatever they heard in these recordings, their lives would never be the same. Knowledge of a thousand-year conspiracy would change everything — their understanding of history, politics, and the very nature of power in the galaxy.
"Last chance to change your mind," he said quietly.
"Activate the recording, Alex. It's time to know the truth."
Alex nodded and touched the touch panel.
The recording was about 30 or 40 years old.
***
Holorecording: Analytical Report of the Council of Six on the Implementation of the Thousand-Year Plan
Location: Closed session of the analytical commission
Classification: Highest State Secret
[Holographic projector activates. The image stabilizes, showing a hall with high ceilings. The figures of the participants are hidden by hoods or obscured by shadow]
Chairman (distorted voice, clearly modified by technical means): "Esteemed Council members, I declare the session open. Today, we will hear the final report on the implementation of the Thousand-Year Stabilization Plan. Presenter — Chief Analyst."
[One of the figures stands up, activates holographic diagrams]
Chief Analyst (female voice, carefully controlled intonations): "Esteemed colleagues, after a full analysis, I am forced to state: the Thousand-Year Plan has achieved only partial results, insufficient to solve the main task."
[Holograms show galaxy maps with various colored zones]
Analyst: "The positive results are evident. Galactic expansion has not only been halted but reversed. The number of actively colonized systems has been reduced to minimal values. Economic growth has been frozen and even reduced — the galaxy's overall economic potential has decreased by twenty percent over a millennium."
Council Member (male voice with metallic undertones): "What is the status of technological research?"
Analyst: "This is where the problems begin. We have only managed to replace superficial elements — interfaces have been converted to button control, monitors replaced with beam systems, and mechanical control implemented in many areas. But these are only cosmetic changes."
[Holograms change, showing technical schematics]
Analyst: "Key technologies remain unexplored. Hyperspace, hyperdrives, crystalline hearts, computational crystals — we have not even approached understanding their principles of operation at a basic level."
Another Council Member (voice with a distinct accent of unknown origin): "Reasons for the failure of the research program?"
Analyst: "Underfunding, dispersion of efforts, loss of key specialists. But most importantly — we underestimated the complexity of Rakatan technologies. They are based on principles that do not fit within our scientific paradigm."
[Long pause, sounds of whispering]
Chairman: "What are the projections if the current approach is maintained?"
Analyst: "Grim. The degradation of Rakatan components continues. At the current pace of research, we will not have time to create alternatives before the critical point. Civilization will face a technological collapse."
Council Member (elderly voice): "So, standard methods have been exhausted?"
Analyst: "Precisely. The democratic institutions of the Republic are incapable of mobilizing resources on the required scale. The Senate will never vote for the radical measures needed to solve the crisis."
Chairman: "Alternative options?"
Analyst: "Only the 'Galactic Restructuring' plan remains, developed by our predecessors as an extreme measure. The artificial creation of a crisis to obtain unlimited powers."
[Tense silence]
Council Member (female voice): "This means the end of the thousand-year period of stability."
Analyst: "The alternative is the end of civilization. Controlled chaos is better than uncontrolled collapse."
(recording interrupted)
***
Holorecording: Minutes of the Council of Six Meeting on Galactic Restructuring
Date: One hundred days after the previous meeting
Location: Secret Complex "Omega," orbit of Coruscant
Classification: Highest State Secret
[Holographic projector activates. The image shows a significantly larger hall. Many figures in hoods, some participating via holographic projections. Sounds of respirators and mechanical prosthetics can be heard]
Chairman (distorted voice): "Gentlemen, today we are making decisions that will determine the future of galactic civilization. Over a hundred days of detailed work, the 'Galactic Restructuring' plan has taken concrete shape."
[Sounds of many voices, quieting down on command. Nervous coughing can be heard]
Chief Analyst (female voice): "Allow me to outline the essence of the restructuring plan. We must reduce the galaxy's technological reach by eighty percent. Only then can we conserve the remaining Rakatan resources and gain additional time for research."
[Holograms show galaxy maps with colored zones. The image flickers at particularly important moments]
Analyst: "Unfortunately, many of our predecessors did not pay sufficient attention to this plan, preferring half-measures. Now we have no choice — either radical restructuring or complete collapse."
Chairman: "Master Damask, please present the detailed restructuring plan."
Master Damask (authoritative voice with a Muunilinst accent): "Thank you. The plan is divided into four zones with different levels of technological provision."
[Detailed holographic maps activate]
Damask: "Zone Alpha — the Deep Core. Full preservation of all modern technologies. Hyperspace, hyperdrives, crystalline hearts, computational systems. Government centers and main research complexes will be located here."
Council Member (female voice): "How many systems are in Zone Alpha?"
Damask: "One thousand systems. This is the administrative core of the new galaxy. Population — about five hundred billion, but this will be the elite: scientists, administrators, military personnel, key specialists."
Council Member (trembling voice): "And our families? Our children?"
Chairman: "The relocation lists for Zone Alpha are already prepared. Each of those present will receive spots for five hundred sentient beings they can take."
Damask: "The rest... will understand their duty to the galaxy."
Damask: "Zone Beta — the main part of the Core and the industrial centers of the Inner Rim. Limited access to modern technologies. Hyperspace only for official needs, hyperdrives only on military and state ships."
Director Kuat (broken voice): "Which systems will be included in Zone Beta?"
Damask: "The main ones — Coruscant, Kuat, Corellia, Alderaan, Chandrila. A total of five thousand systems. This will be the industrial base of the empire. The population will maintain a relatively high standard of living, but under strict control."
Representative of CEC: "And the production of civilian hyperdrives?"
Damask: "It will cease entirely. The Corellian Engineering Corporation will reorient to the production of planetary transport and industrial equipment. In return, it receives a monopoly on these markets in Zones Beta and Gamma."
Damask: "Zone Gamma — the Inner Rim and developed systems of the Mid Rim. Technological degradation to the pre-Rakatan era. Disconnection from hyperspace, prohibition of interstellar travel, transition to alternative energy sources."
Architect of BlasTech: "What will happen to our factories in Zone Gamma?"
Damask: BlasTech retains several key enterprises in the Beta zone, receives compensation for lost assets, and contracts for the production of "adapted" equipment for the Gamma zone. Laser blasters are replaced with firearms, which, in the absence of personal shields, is reasonable; energy shields are replaced with armor plates.
Council Member (worried voice): How many sentient beings will suffer in the Gamma zone?
Damask: About twenty quadrillion. The remainder will return to the technological level of twenty thousand years ago. Agriculture, crafts, simple industry.
Damask: Sentimentality is a luxury we cannot afford.
Damask: Delta Zone—the Outer Rim and peripheral systems. Complete isolation. Disconnection from all galactic networks, prohibition of space travel, return to a pre-industrial level. In this zone, a "natural adjustment" of the population will occur.
Chief Analyst (quietly): That's forty quadrillion lives, Magister.
Damask: (long pause) The price of necessary decisions is always high.
Council Member (elderly voice): How will we explain such radical measures?
Damask: Gradually. First, "temporary wartime restrictions"—resource conservation for the front. Then "reconstruction measures"—concentration of efforts on critical areas. Then "optimization of galactic infrastructure"—more efficient resource allocation.
Chairman: We move on to the implementation mechanisms. Is the Republic incapable of such decisions?
Damask: Absolutely. Democratic institutions are fundamentally incapable of dooming the majority of voters. We need total centralization of power.
Damask: The political transformation plan will take fifty years and consists of four stages. The first is the creation of a managed crisis. The blockade of Naboo will be the beginning of a chain of events that will propel our candidate to the center of the political arena.
Director of Information Services: Our media corporations are ready to present any skirmish as a threat to civilization.
Damask: The second stage is obtaining emergency powers. A frightened Senate will grant the Chancellor dictatorial rights to "protect democracy."
Damask: The third stage is a large-scale conflict that will finally discredit the Republic and allow for the establishment of imperial rule.
Damask: The fourth stage is the elimination of all obstacles to centralization and the gradual implementation of restructuring under the guise of "reconstruction measures."
Council Member: What happens to the Jedi Order?
Damask: The Order has exhausted itself as a tool of governance. They will not accept this plan. Moreover, they have too much influence to exist in a centralized system.
Damask: We are working to attract individual Jedi to our side. Count Dooku already understands the necessity of radical change and is ready to lead an alternative movement.
Palpatine (familiar voice): The rest... will have the opportunity to prove their loyalty to the new order or share the fate of outdated institutions.
Chairman: Who will be the executors of the plan?
Damask: Allow me to introduce Senator Palpatine from Naboo—our candidate for Chancellor.
Senator Palpatine: Thank you for your trust. I am ready to serve the highest interests of the galaxy.
Damask: The crisis on Naboo will propel the Senator to the center of the political arena. He will become a symbol of the fight against corruption and separatism.
Council Member: And who will lead the separatists?
Palpatine: Count Dooku understands the necessity of radical measures and is ready to take on this role. He will convince the Outer Rim corporations of the need for cooperation.
Damask: The Trade Federation, the Techno Union—all their assets in the Outer Rim are subject to restructuring, but they don't know it yet.
Representative of Kamino: And what about our production capacities?
Damask: Kamino receives exclusive contracts for the production of a clone army for the new empire. This will compensate for the loss of civilian markets.
Chairman: Funding for the operation?
Damask: The Banking Clan will provide loans to all parties in the conflict. The war must appear real, but controlled.
Director of Special Projects: A separate line item—the completion of the planetary pacification system. The budget is classified, even from the Senate.
Council Member: Planetary?
Director of Special Projects: One shot—one system. For particularly stubborn opponents of restructuring.
Palpatine: The very existence of such a possibility will make negotiations more... constructive.
Chief Analyst: Key allies—Kuat, CEC, and BlasTech. They will provide the technical side: ships, weapons, equipment.
Political Advisor: And the resistance?
Damask: By the time people understand the true scale of what is happening, they will not have the technical means for organized resistance. Without hyperspace communication, it is impossible to coordinate actions between systems.
Council Member: But what if some system retains its fleet? Or several worlds unite?
Damask: (long pause) We have... a final solution for such cases.
Director of Project "Omega": A demonstration strike on one system will convince the others of the futility of resistance.
Palpatine: The effect must be... impressive.
Damask: We will discuss the technical details separately.
Palpatine: Gentlemen, the plan is thoroughly worked out. The crisis will begin soon.
Chairman: What is the timeline for the entire operation?
Damask: Twenty years of preparation. Of which three to four years for the military spectacle. Then twenty years of gradual restructuring. And ten years to complete the plan. By the end of this period, the new galactic structure will become irreversible.
Council Member: And if the plan fails?
Damask: We have agents in all key positions. The conflict will unfold strictly according to our scenario.
Chief Analyst: Are you truly prepared... to erase entire worlds?
Damask: It is better to lose 80% of the systems than the entire galaxy. We are surgeons of civilization. We amputate diseased limbs to save the body.
Palpatine: Suffering will cleanse the galaxy. Those who survive will become stronger.
Chairman: History will remember us as saviors or executioners—depending on who writes it.
Chairman: Gentlemen, we vote. Who is in favor of approving the "Galactic Restructuring" plan?
[Sounds of voting]
Chairman: The decision is unanimous. The operation begins. The galaxy will be saved, even if it doesn't understand it and curses us.
Damask: The last question—code names for the historical archives?
Palpatine: (with a cold smile in his voice) "Order 66"—for the elimination of the Jedi. "The Great Silence"—for technological degradation.
Chairman: Let the galaxy remember this day as the beginning of its salvation... or the end of its illusions.
Damask: We will meet in twenty years to assess the results. History will judge us.
Chairman: I declare the meeting adjourned.
[Sound of disconnecting holograms. Long silence. Then the solitary sounds of footsteps receding into darkness]
_________________________________________________________________________________
Location: Laboratory, Nar Shaddaa
Time: 5 BBY, immediately after listening to the recordings
The silence in the laboratory was deafening. Alex sat motionless, staring at the extinguished screen of the holoprojector.
He remained silent for several minutes. Only the quiet hum of the life support systems disturbed the dead silence.
"I don't even know how to react to this," Alex finally said in a hoarse voice. "It's just... just..." he faltered, unable to find words. "I can't find the words."
Alex slowly stood up. His legs felt weak, and one word pounded in his head: "genocide." Planetary genocide, stretched over decades.
"Eighty percent of the galaxy," he whispered. "They're going to sacrifice eighty percent of sentient beings."
Verena turned to him, fury in her eyes. "Don't tell me there's some kind of logic to this!"
"I wasn't going to," he replied quietly. "It's monstrous. It's..."
He broke off.
Verena approached him, her anger replaced by despair.
"What if they're right?" she asked in a trembling voice. "What if this is the only way to save anyone?"
"Then we have to find another way," Alex said firmly, straightening up. "We absolutely must."
He activated a secure communicator.
"I'm contacting Luthen. He needs to know this."
Luthen responded a few minutes later.
"Greetings," Alex said grimly. "Luthen, find the safest place and make sure no one is eavesdropping. What I'm about to tell you will change everything."
The next hour was spent exchanging information. Luthen studied the transmitted data, and Alex supplemented the picture with his own conclusions. When they finished, a long silence ensued.
"Eighty percent of the galaxy," Luthen finally whispered. "They're going to condemn eighty percent of the galaxy to technological medievalism."
"This isn't just Palpatine staging a coup," Alex said. "It's a conspiracy with the financial and industrial circles. They realized they were running out of time. But if they don't spend resources on eighty percent of the galaxy, they'll have enough time to create alternative technologies."
"And for that, they need an Empire," Luthen understood. "Democracy and the Republic can't handle something like this. They need a dictatorship capable of planetary genocide."
"Exactly. Hence the brutality. They understand that many worlds are doomed anyway. Therefore, they need to extract everything from them for the survival of the core."
Luthen's voice became furious: "These bastards haven't come up with anything better in a thousand years than to destroy eighty percent of the galaxy! And they'll waste the new time they win too, because they only think about preserving their power!"
"Luthen..."
"No, listen to me, Alex! I will unite everyone I can to destroy these freaks. I'll dedicate my life to it, but I won't let them carry out this plan!"
Alex understood his friend's fury, but he also saw a deeper problem: "Then we need an alternative. And I will look for it, I promise. That document mentioned Project 'Archive.' I'll try to find this archive. Perhaps it contains technologies that can save everyone."
"We'll divide the tasks," Luthen said, his voice filled with iron resolve. "You'll look for a technological solution, and I'll create a political alternative."
"Agreed. But there's one more thing—find out what major project the Empire is undertaking. My agents are talking about something grandiose related to ancient technologies."
"I'll take care of it," Luthen promised. "Alex, we have to see this through. I swear to you."
"And I swear to you," Alex replied. "We will find a third way."
***
After the conversation, Alex sat in the laboratory for a long time, studying maps of ancient systems.
Now he understood the true scale of the problem. It wasn't just a fight against the Empire or an attempt to overthrow a tyrant. It was a race against time, an attempt to find an alternative to a plan that was both monstrous and rationally justified.
Somewhere in the secret laboratories of the Deep Core, the galaxy's best scientists were working on creating new technologies. Perhaps in a thousand or fifteen hundred years, they would succeed, and civilization would be reborn on a new foundation. But the price of this success would be the suffering of quadrillions of beings who would be condemned to life in technological medievalism or extinction.
Alex stood up and walked to the holographic map of the galaxy. Eighty percent of the star systems were to be plunged into darkness. Quadrillions of sentient beings would lose modern medicine, communication, and transport. Entire civilizations would degrade to the level of pre-industrial society.
And the most terrifying thing was that the elite were right in their calculations. The math was ruthless. If they continued to spend Rakatan components on the entire galaxy, in four hundred years, nothing would remain. Complete collapse, a return to the Stone Age. If they sacrificed eighty percent, the remaining twenty percent would have a chance to survive and rebuild civilization over centuries.
But there was a third possibility. The Rakatan archives. They had to exist! If they contained not only ready-made technologies but also knowledge about the principles of their operation, then it would be possible to create a production base independent of ancient artifacts.
Alex activated the search program and began analyzing all mentions of Project "Archive" in the received document. There was little information—only a few lines about "reserve knowledge repositories" and "educational centers for critical situations."
But it was something. The Rakata were too intelligent not to anticipate the possibility of catastrophe. Somewhere, there had to be repositories not just of technologies, but of knowledge on how to create these technologies.
Alex looked at the schematics of Rakatan ruins covering the laboratory walls. Over years of expeditions, he had explored hundreds of ancient worlds, but all the objects he found were either production complexes or military bases. He had not encountered educational centers.
Perhaps they were better hidden. Or located in systems not marked on his maps. He needed to expand the search, study the archives more thoroughly, and find mentions of training centers.
There was a knock on the door. Verena entered with a cup of coffee and a worried expression.
"I brought coffee," she said, placing the cup on the table.
Alex put his arms around her shoulders.
"I'm thinking about what to do with all this. We've found answers to many questions," he said cautiously. "But these answers have presented us with new tasks. Very difficult tasks."
Verena studied his face with her large eyes.
"Verena, I might have to leave for a long time. To search for something very important among the Rakatan ruins. Something that could save quadrillions of lives."
"Then I'll go with you," she said without hesitation.
"It could be dangerous..."
"Alex," she placed her hand on his cheek, "over the years, you've given me more than I could have dreamed of. Freedom, purpose, meaning in life. If there's a chance to save others from suffering, then I'm ready for any risk. And I don't want to be alone."
Alex hugged her tightly. Yes, they would manage.