Chapter 359 – Jedi Master Obi-Wan! Star Destroyer! Melting Glass!
Tatooine – Jundland Wastes.
Paul and his companions followed Luke's landspeeder to Obi-Wan's hideout—a modest hut nestled between hillocks, with a slaughterhouse nearby.
Though the humble structure hardly seemed befitting a Jedi Master, Chirrut, a Force-sensitive, immediately sensed the extraordinary presence surrounding it.
"This is the Jedi Order's knowledge archive. I thought the Empire had destroyed them all. I never expected to see one again here."
Chirrut was overjoyed. With this trove of knowledge, the Jedi Order might one day rise again.
"I believe this may be the last remaining repository of Force knowledge in existence."
Just then, an old man in a brown robe emerged to greet them. Though he appeared advanced in years, his piercing gaze and upright posture betrayed his remarkable vitality.
This was none other than the Jedi Master in hiding on Tatooine—Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Now approaching sixty, Obi-Wan should have been a frail old man by ordinary human standards. Yet he stood with the strength and presence of someone in their prime. In fact, if he wanted to, he could still take down several Sith Force wielders with ease.
Force users generally lived much longer than regular humans. Barring accidents, most could reach well over two hundred years of age. Even a newly initiated Force-sensitive could expect to live that long without much difficulty.
But the Jedi path was a high-risk profession. Most didn't make it past fifty, often perishing in battle. Those who did survive to old age were typically undefeated masters of their time.
Following behind Obi-Wan were two droids—C-3PO and R2-D2. Upon spotting Captain Cassian, who had served the Rebel Alliance, they rushed forward in delight:
[Captain Cassian! It's such a relief to see you here. After landing on this remote and barren planet, I'd nearly given up hope of finding the Alliance again.]
C-3PO, ever the chatterbox, immediately launched into a stream of words. Cassian, who had crossed paths with Princess Leia many times, naturally recognized the pair.
"Enough small talk," Cassian interrupted. "Princess Leia's still waiting for us to rescue her. Just tell me—did she leave any message?"
R2-D2 let out a beep and projected a holographic recording stored inside him.
It was Leia's plea for help, addressed to Obi-Wan.
**[Master Obi-Wan Kenobi—during the Clone Wars, you fought alongside my father. Now he begs for your aid against the Empire.
I regret that I cannot personally deliver the letter from my father. My ship is under attack, and I fear this may be the last time we ever speak.
I carry information vital to the Rebel Alliance, stored within R2-D2. My father will know how to retrieve it. Please, you must…]**
Before she could finish, the feed was cut short by a violent explosion—proof that Leia had been captured by Imperial forces.
Realizing Obi-Wan's true identity, Chirrut stared at him in astonishment. "You're Master Obi-Wan Kenobi? The former teacher of Darth Vader?!"
"I regret having trained such a failure."
Obi-Wan sighed, his face marked with remorse.
In truth, when Anakin Skywalker was still a Jedi, his first teacher had been Qui-Gon Jinn. Back then, both Anakin and Obi-Wan were Jinn's disciples.
To the fatherless Anakin, Qui-Gon was more than a mentor—he was a surrogate father, the one who filled that aching void.
Had Qui-Gon not died at the hands of Darth Maul, Anakin may have never turned to the dark side. He might have grown to become a Jedi Master like Obi-Wan.
But with Qui-Gon's death, Obi-Wan stepped into the role—not as a father, but more as an elder brother. He lacked the emotional authority to guide Anakin properly.
Anakin, for his part, never fully accepted Obi-Wan's authority. This left him vulnerable to Palpatine's manipulations, which eventually led him down the path of the Sith.
Now, as Darth Vader, Anakin had slain countless Jedi and brought immense terror to the Rebel Alliance. Obi-Wan blamed himself—perhaps, had he been a better mentor, things might have turned out differently.
"Luke, you must come with me to Alderaan," Obi-Wan told the young Skywalker. "I'm old now, and I'll need a young hand to help me."
Of course, Obi-Wan didn't truly think himself too old. This was merely a pretense to bring Luke along, to begin his training. After all, only someone like Obi-Wan was qualified to teach a chosen one.
"No, I can't," Luke protested. "I need to stay with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. Wherever they go, I'll be with them. Why do you need me, when there are so many others who can help you?"
Having spent his life on the moisture farm with his adoptive family, Luke wasn't ready to abandon his peaceful life and suddenly confront a destiny he didn't believe in.
"You are the Chosen One."
Chirrut stepped forward. "I can sense it—the Force within you is unlike anything I've ever encountered. You have greater potential than Anyone I've met."
"To refuse the gifts of the heavens is to court misfortune. This is your destiny, and it will come for you—whether you're ready or not."
The last recognized "Chosen One" had been Anakin Skywalker—Luke's father. But Anakin had fallen under the sway of the Empire and become a Sith Lord.
That was why Obi-Wan was so intent on training Luke himself. If he didn't, the Sith would surely try to claim him.
And yet, even with this revelation, Luke showed little emotion. To him, he was still just a cheerful farm boy, living with his adoptive parents. Saving the galaxy seemed like someone else's job.
Upon learning that Luke's family had already been evacuated by corporate airships, Paul stepped forward and said:
"Master Obi-Wan, let Luke come with us. You've got more pressing matters to handle."
He then relayed the mission assigned to him by headquarters.
When Obi-Wan heard that his old nemesis Darth Maul was still alive and wreaking havoc on Mandalore, his face turned from shock to pure fury.
He couldn't believe it—Maul, whom he'd sliced in half, had somehow survived through sheer dark-side power and been rescued.
What enraged him even more was that his blade hadn't finished the job, allowing this sworn enemy to continue breathing for all these years.
"Very well. I'll leave Alderaan and Luke in your hands. I'll join your forces on Mandalore and finish what I started with Darth Maul."
Just moments ago he had claimed he was too old—but now, with vengeance on the line, Obi-Wan was full of vigor again.
Suddenly, Paul received an alert from the corporate scanner—the Empire's fleet had arrived in Tatooine's orbit!
In an instant, the already arid air turned scorching. The planet's sweltering heat intensified, as though every last drop of moisture in the atmosphere had been sucked dry.
With his battle instincts honed through war, Paul recognized the signs—orbital beam strike incoming!
"Get down—now!"
Before Anyone could react, a crimson beam shot down from the skies, slicing through the atmosphere and crashing into the heart of the desert. In a blinding flash, a fireball erupted skyward.
The blast superheated the ground. Solid sand turned to molten glass, spreading outward like syrup.
A violent shockwave rolled across the land, turning the desert into a boiling sea. Terrifying heat radiation swept in all directions.
Anyone living in the blast radius—Jawas, dewbacks, and other desert dwellers—were instantly consumed by the inferno, reduced to blackened husks, then scattered to dust by the blast.
Not a trace remained—just like that.
Had Paul not received the scanner's warning in time, they wouldn't have survived either.
The culprit behind this apocalyptic devastation was the Empire's Star Destroyer, equipped with turbolaser cannons.
These turbolasers fired particle beams guided through electrified blaster gas, charged further by capacitors embedded in the turret. The result—a massive energy blast capable of obliterating entire landscapes.
Each shot packed the force of over ten million Hiroshima bombs.
Worse yet, this was not a lone Star Destroyer. A full Imperial fleet had entered Tatooine's orbit and begun indiscriminate bombardment of the surface.
To them, wiping out this lawless planet of smugglers and criminals was just a side job.
On the command bridge, Admiral Cassio Tagge gazed coldly at the burning surface below and sneered:
"Let's see those Jedi lightsabers deflect this. They may bounce blaster bolts, but I doubt they can reflect turbolaser fire from a Star Destroyer."
In Tagge's eyes, the Force had no place in the modern era. Only overwhelming firepower like that of a Star Destroyer could rule the galaxy.
And he wasn't entirely wrong—no Jedi had ever been known to deflect a capital ship's main cannon, let alone slice a Star Destroyer in half with a blade of light.
Such feats were unheard of—even in myth.
What Tagge didn't know was that, when the Force reached its pinnacle, its users could pull Star Destroyers from the sky by sheer will.
Darth Vader had done it. So had the fully-realized Luke Skywalker.
Back on the ground, Paul deployed a bubble shield, while Obi-Wan raised a Force barrier, shielding the group from the onslaught.
But even their combined efforts wouldn't hold forever against an orbital bombardment.
"Get inside, now! Don't just stand there!" Obi-Wan yelled.
Under their protection, the group rushed into the shelter of the hut.
Obi-Wan had lived on Tatooine for years. He'd planned for this—beneath the hut was a hidden underground bunker, the true location of the Jedi archive.
As soon as everyone was safely inside, Obi-Wan used the Force to lower a heavy stone door, sealing off the entrance and shielding them from the hell raining down above.
Outside, the relentless orbital bombardment continued. The deafening booms and tremors shook the very earth beneath them.
Inside the bunker, emotions ran high.
Especially for Paul and Chani—this was their first time being on the receiving end of an orbital strike. Until now, their corporation had always been the one doing the bombarding.
Now the tables had turned.
Paul instinctively grasped Chani's hand. This mission could cost them their lives. It might be their last time fighting side by side.
With the Tarkin Doctrine in full effect, the Empire didn't care what damage it caused. As far as they were concerned, once the surface was scorched, all enemies would be erased.
The hellscape on Tatooine, captured live by orbiting drones, was broadcast back to the headquarters of the Universal Megacorp .
Everyone watching the feed held their breath. If Paul and Obi-Wan perished here, then Reed, still locked in battle with Darth Maul on Mandalore, would be left to fend for himself.
"These Imperial bastards… all they know is how to blow things up! How can they possibly govern the galaxy this way?!"
Jack Wells couldn't hold back his anger. Sure, the Empire's methods were efficient—but such brutal rule only sowed the seeds of rebellion.
True, there weren't many saints on Tatooine—it was a cesspool of crime and greed. But it was also the heart of the galaxy's underground trade.
Now it had been turned into glass.
Whether it was Jabba the Hutt, overlord of the criminal underworld, or the Neimoidians, leaders of the Trade Federation, both had their own operations on Tatooine.
The Imperial Army's indiscriminate bombing had now managed to offend every business interest on both sides of the law!
Especially the Neimoidians—ever since being suppressed by the Empire, their influence within the Trade Federation had been steadily declining.
In contrast, the Hutts had been quietly raking in enormous profits in recent years.
Capital and power are always intertwined. With wealth in hand, the Hutts naturally wanted to leverage the Trade Federation to further their political ambitions.
So, in a sense, the financial backers behind the Trade Federation during this period were actually the deep-pocketed Hutt Consortium.
But then the Imperial Army went and bombed the Hutts' largest smuggling hub—an act guaranteed to enrage every faction of the Hutt Consortium, thereby pushing the Trade Federation into even more direct opposition against the Empire.
To the various power players within the Trade Federation, this Imperial action was clearly a warning—an attempt to intimidate and force them into submission.
"We've already won this battle."
Facing the hardlight display, Li Ang remarked calmly.
Through the Imperial Army's sudden and seemingly senseless orbital bombardment, he had come to realize that internal factional struggles within the Galactic Empire were growing increasingly intense.
The conflict between Palpatine and the Trade Federation—the lingering forces of the old Republic—was reaching a breaking point. Even if efforts were made now to mend relations, it was already too late.
With internal strife and external pressure mounting, all it would take was a single decisive strike from the Universal Megacorp—and the Empire would collapse!
…
"Keep bombing! Don't stop!"
The Star Destroyer Dreadnought under General Tagge's command was the lead warship in this operation. This vessel alone was equipped with five thousand powerful turbolaser cannons.
What Paul had just witnessed—the destruction from a single turbolaser cannon—was only a fraction of its true firepower.
When all five thousand turbolasers fired simultaneously, Tatooine, once a vast sea of desert, was swiftly transformed into a world of molten lava.
Rivers of lava began to converge and flow, forming bright crimson channels—but what flowed through them wasn't blood. It was superheated molten glass.
Once cooled, it would solidify into razor-sharp shards of obsidian.
Clearly, this "glass-burning" tactic, popularized by the Covenant, had found a home in the Empire's playbook as well.
Casio Tagge observed the devastation below without the slightest flicker of emotion.
From his perspective, he was delivering divine justice on behalf of the Empire—ruthlessly wiping out criminal activity and purging the wicked to ensure Imperial rule.
He firmly believed he was doing nothing wrong.
What Tagge didn't know, however, was that just two hours earlier, his direct superior, Wilhuff Tarkin, had been stripped of his military command by order of Emperor Palpatine, and all implementation of Tarkin Doctrine had been suspended.
The Galactic Empire was now shifting away from brutal suppression toward a more conciliatory strategy. At least in response to current uprisings, the approach was to focus on negotiation and ground-based peacekeeping—minimizing the deployment of fleet power wherever possible.
Thus, Tagge's current actions had placed him squarely at odds with Palpatine's new directive.
Back on Tatooine, desperate merchants and criminals who refused to sit around and die began banding together, scrambling aboard any available ships to escape the nightmare.
After all, this was a trade hub—there was no shortage of high-performance spacecraft. Waves of outlaws manned their smuggling vessels, making a mad dash for space.
Unfortunately for them, Tagge was still zealously enforcing the Tarkin Doctrine. And to him, there was only one course of action for fleeing criminals: intercept and annihilate every last one of them!
No one would escape from his grasp.
Against the meticulously deployed and heavily fortified Imperial fleet, the criminal fugitives had no hope. Their dreams of escaping Tatooine died as quickly as their ships did—blasted apart in mid-flight.
What happened to their freedom to trade and conduct business? How had it all ended in a sudden, merciless purge?
Soon, every vessel that tried to flee was ruthlessly shot down by the Imperial fleet. In the orbital skies above Tatooine, it rained unrelenting fire.
As the "glass-burning" campaign continued, the planet's surface became encrusted with horrifying red-black scabs.
Acrid smoke and the stench of burning flesh filled the air, spreading through the atmosphere. The once-bustling planet of merchants and criminals had become a world of death.
General Tagge gazed at the aftermath with great satisfaction. Although he hadn't managed to reduce Tatooine to cosmic dust like the Death Star might have, he believed this indiscriminate bombardment was enough to drown even the most powerful Jedi in molten glass.
Shortly after the first wave of orbital strikes ended, General Tagge still showed no intention of ordering a retreat.
He planned to wait until the lava cooled into solid glass before dispatching ground forces to scour the surface thoroughly.
Only after confirming that the Lars Moisture Farm was completely devoid of life would he submit his perfect report to his now-disgraced superior, Tarkin.
"All forces hold position. Surround the entire perimeter of Tatooine. Intercept every ship, even those just passing by—not a single one is to escape!"
Casio Tagge growled the order.
He simply refused to believe that, after a relentless assault like this, any Jedi could still be alive on the ground.
And in fact, aside from Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, who had been evacuated earlier by a ship from the Universal Megacorp, every last criminal and merchant had already been wiped out by Tagge's purge.
When it came to enforcing the Tarkin Doctrine, Tagge had delivered a performance that could only be described as flawless.
At that moment, far away at the headquarters of Multiversal Base, Marshal Jack Wells couldn't help but ask Li Ang :
"Boss, should we send troops to rescue Paul? Now that the Imperial fleet has surrounded them like this, they won't be able to get out."
According to the Megacorp's original plan, once Paul convinced Master Obi-Wan to kill Darth Maul, a ship would immediately be dispatched to extract Paul and the others.
But thanks to Tagge's interference, if they didn't dispatch a full expeditionary fleet to eliminate the Imperial forces, Paul and Obi-Wan would be trapped on Tatooine indefinitely!
And Reed, who desperately needed the help of Jedi Master Obi-Wan, would be left waiting with no reinforcements—potentially putting the Mandalore system in grave danger.
"David Martinez, commander of the Ninth Expeditionary Legion, is already in the same sector as Tatooine. All headquarters needs to do is give the word, and he can move in to extract Paul," added Johnny Silverhand.
Given the current situation, without outside assistance, Paul and his group would never make it out alive.
However, contrary to expectations, Li Ang rejected the proposal to send in troops to rescue Paul.
"There's no need to deploy our fleet. They'll withdraw on their own soon enough."
Li Ang spoke with unwavering confidence.
He had never intended to send forces to Tatooine to extract Anyone. Instead, he planned to send operatives to whisper into the ears of the Trade Federation, the Hutts, and the other consortiums.
That was the sharpest blade he could thrust into the Galactic Empire.
Li Ang was certain that within three days, those consortiums would be kicking down the doors of Palpatine's Imperial Palace.
And when that happened, Casio Tagge, who had surrounded Tatooine with his fleet, would be ordered to retreat and hauled back to Coruscant to answer for his actions.
Of course, Li Ang didn't expect Palpatine to execute Tagge just to appease the Trade Federation.
Palpatine had endured hardship and betrayal—but he had never mistreated the Imperial Navy. His regard for the Navy's admirals was as deep as that of a father for his sons.
The vast majority of the Empire's spending had been poured into the Navy, which is why later, after the fall of the Empire, the First Order would rise—eager to avenge the past and rebuild what was lost.
Because to them, Palpatine had been a truly loyal leader—one who had given them everything he had.
"Just wait. Within three days, that Imperial flagship will withdraw. The remaining scattered units won't be a threat."
Li Ang 's firm prediction left Jack and Johnny exchanging puzzled looks, filled with doubt.
They didn't understand why their boss was so confident that the Imperial fleet would retreat in exactly three days.
But the more they thought about it, the more they realized— Li Ang had never been wrong before.
So the two of them simply nodded silently, suppressing their unease, and waited to see how things would unfold over the coming days.
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