Star Wars: Empire of the Eternal Star

{Chapter: 14 The Birth of the New Civilization}

"Administrator... I can change it. I'll do it right away!" Norris Barry blurted out, his voice laced with fear as he straightened his posture. His hands trembled slightly, betraying his nervousness.

However, before he could take further action, a commotion outside the room drew his attention. The heavy footfalls of boots echoed down the hallway, and soon, a team of fully armed Marines marched in, their faces impassive, their weapons strapped securely to their bodies.

Barry's heart pounded as he saw that they weren't alone. Behind them were the remaining members of the Social and Cultural Department, all looking just as alarmed as he felt. The sight of so many armed soldiers standing in silent, disciplined formation only deepened his fear. Had he done something wrong? Was this the end for him?

But then, Leo spoke, his voice calm yet carrying an undeniable weight.

"No, you did an exceptional job," Leo said, his tone unreadable, though a faint, knowing smile played at the corners of his lips. "Originally, I was considering whether I needed to awaken a master sociologist to assist in completing this task. But you—" he gestured toward Barry with an almost amused expression, "—you did it on your own. And that, once again, proves something to me. Titles and class distinctions mean little. A person's value is not determined by the status they held when they first stepped aboard this ship."

He leaned forward slightly, his piercing gaze locking onto Barry's. "Even those born into ordinary ranks can achieve greatness if given the right opportunities."

Barry swallowed hard, his throat dry. He had expected criticism, maybe even punishment—but praise? He felt a cold sweat forming at the back of his neck, unsure whether this was truly a compliment or a prelude to something far worse.

"But..." Leo's tone shifted. The atmosphere in the room tensed.

Barry stiffened.

"You will be relieved of your position within the Social and Cultural Department," Leo said, his words deliberate, precise. "I will personally oversee the selection of new individuals to replace you. Those I awaken will serve as the department's new leaders and members. As for you... you will vanish from all records. Your name will be erased. It will be as though you never existed."

Barry's knees buckled, and with a heavy thud, he collapsed onto the floor. His breath came in short gasps as he tried to process Leo's decree.

"Administrator!" he gasped. "I—I didn't make any mistakes!"

"Of course, you didn't," Leo replied, his expression calm, almost gentle. "In fact, you accomplished something incredible. You have successfully crafted a flawless historical narrative. And because of that, you must bear the weight of it."

Leo straightened, looking down at the stunned man.

"You and the others here will become the 'Guardians of History.' You will be the keepers of this truth, the ones who ensure its preservation and continuity. As such, you will be granted everything—every material comfort, every luxury, every indulgence you could desire." He spread his hands as if offering them an unimaginable gift.

"But," he added, his voice darkening, "you will be severed from the rest of civilization. You will never again be allowed contact with the outside world. Those who attempt to reach you will face imprisonment—or worse."

A slow silence stretched across the room. The other members of the department looked at one another, their faces pale, their expressions unreadable. Some seemed ready to protest, but none dared to speak.

"I will construct a residence for you," Leo continued. "It will be magnificent, a place befitting your new role. And there, you will live out the rest of your days, ensuring the continuity of our history—our truth."

A long, weary sigh escaped Barry's lips. He lowered his head, his shoulders slumping as the full weight of Leo's words settled on him. He understood now. There was no choice.

"I see..." he murmured. "We will become your greatest secret—the silent architects of this civilization's history."

Leo nodded approvingly. "Yes. That is the burden of history."

Then, to the shock of everyone in the room, Leo stepped forward and embraced Barry. It was not a brief, empty gesture but a lingering moment of solemn recognition. He then moved down the line, embracing each of the ten remaining members.

Finally, standing before them once more, he bowed deeply.

"Thank you," he said.

A moment of stunned silence followed before Barry and the others mirrored his action, bowing in return.

"It is our honor, Administrator," Barry said, his voice steady now. "To be entrusted with the foundation of the New Civilization—there is no greater privilege."

Leo watched as the eleven "Guardians of History" were escorted away by the Marines. His gaze remained firm, unwavering, even as the doors slid shut behind them.

Taking a slow breath, he turned his thoughts inward.

This civilization, this New Civilization, was more than just an idea. It was a necessity.

A nation's history shapes its values, its beliefs, its way of thinking. And in a universe poised on the brink of war, those values could not be founded on ideals of peace.

No.

The people on this mothership needed to understand that survival was not a right but something to be seized. The fabricated history they had written would instill this understanding deep into their bones.

According to their narrative, Milky Way's civilizations had endured three apocalyptic calamities—the Void Demon invasion, the Rectification Protocol, and the High-Dimensional Incursion. Each had nearly wiped out their race, leaving only a desperate few who fled aboard this mothership to seek a new future.

Now, they had only one purpose: survival.

To avoid extinction, they would not fear becoming monsters themselves.

They would become the fourth disaster.

Conquest and hegemony were no longer choices—they were imperatives.

Though it was a fabricated past, it would soon become more than that. A well-told story can inspire, can mold belief, can shape an entire society. And Leo had the power to make this story real.

With the technology at his disposal—ships, weapons, artifacts from civilizations across the stars of the Milky Way—he could weave together the perfect illusion. An undeniable truth.

And that truth would drive them into the coming storm.

The First Step Toward Destiny

"Mastermind," Leo said, his voice steady. "Input this document into the database. Let it become the official history of our people. Ensure that subliminal suggestions are delivered to all hibernating residents, guiding their subconscious to accept this truth. Fragment the information—make sure no one remembers the entire story, only scattered pieces that align with what we tell them."

[Understood. Initiating now.]

Leo exhaled slowly. "Good."

The New Civilization was now set in stone.

Now, it was time to move forward.

Turning, he addressed the nearest officer. "Re-establish the Social and Cultural Department. Select an elite educator and a master sociologist from the hibernation list. Assign them a team of scholars. Their task begins immediately—preparing history textbooks based on this narrative."

The officer saluted. "Understood, Administrator."

Before long, Daphne Clement approached him, her expression serious. "Administrator, Dubrak Quinto wants to speak with you."

Leo raised an eyebrow. "Perfect timing. Bring him in. I've been expecting this."

A few moments later, Dubrak Quinto and Mars Farrais entered. Their appearance had changed—no longer the ragged explorers they had been, but men who had been well-fed, cleaned, and dressed in the garments provided to them.

Though their outward condition had improved, their eyes held unease.

Leo motioned for them to sit. "Tell me, what brings you here?"

Quinto hesitated before speaking carefully. "Administrator... we don't know who you truly are, and we won't ask. But we came to the Endor system for a reason. Our mission is nearly at its deadline. We need to return."

Leo folded his hands together. "And what exactly is your mission?"

Quinto swallowed. "We work for the Hutts on Tatooine. We were sent here to collect cargo—furs, gems, and... other goods... from Endor."

He hesitated before correcting himself.

"From the planet Dawn."

Quinto naturally knew these days that Leo had changed the name of Endor to Dawn.