Luthen
Location: Coruscant
Time: 8 BBY
Luthen Rael adjusted the collar of his expensive suit and surveyed the reception hall in the Senate Quarter tower. Years of trading antiquities had transformed the former partisan from Valorin into a respectable collector whose opinion was valued by the most influential people in the galaxy. Today's reception, celebrating the opening of the new exhibition "Treasures of the Old Republic," had gathered the cream of Coruscant society.
The hall was astonishing in its magnificence. A huge panoramic window spanning the entire wall offered a breathtaking view of Coruscant at night—the endless lights of the metropolis stretched to the horizon, creating a living picture of billions of glowing dots. In front of the window, on a small elevation, a string quartet performed ancient melodies of Alderaan—unobtrusive, exquisite compositions that served as the perfect backdrop for polite conversation.
The exhibits were displayed in elegant vitrines made of transparent durasteel, each illuminated by a soft bluish light that emphasized the beauty of the ancient artifacts. In the center of the hall stood the main exhibit—a navigation computer from the Old Republic era, its casing made of an unknown metal shimmering in the spotlight, and symbols in ancient Galactic still visible on its surface. Nearby were crystals of various shapes and sizes: from tiny power cells to massive focusing lenses, some of which still emitted a faint internal glow.
Luthen, with professional interest, examined the works of art—holographic projectors that created three-dimensional images that slowly changed, telling silent stories of long-lost worlds. In one of the corner display cases were his own exhibits: a dozen carefully selected technological artifacts, including a portable shield generator, an ancient medical scanner, and a mysterious communication device whose purpose remained unclear.
However, the atmosphere of the evening was not as serene as it might have seemed. Luthen immediately noticed the presence of Imperial Security Service agents—they were betrayed by their characteristic black suits and barely visible earpieces. The ISS usually did not provide security for cultural events, which meant the presence of particularly important persons. Agents were positioned around the perimeter of the hall, their gazes constantly scanning the crowd of guests.
Luthen subtly touched the thin ring on his ring finger—a device that allowed him to selectively pick up conversations at a distance. A tiny receiver in his ear transmitted sound with astonishing clarity. This was one of his professional tricks—in the world of antique trading, information was often worth more than the artifacts themselves.
"Mr. Rael!" A voice made him turn around. Director Kyle Jans, a representative and secret shareholder of the Corellian Engineering Corporation, approached with a glass of Corellian brandy in his hand. "What a pleasure to see you here. I hope your business is flourishing?"
"Thank you for your interest, Director," Luthen offered a polite smile, simultaneously directing the ring towards a group of Imperial officers by the far display case. "Demand for genuine artifacts remains stable. Although, I must admit, finding truly valuable specimens is becoming increasingly difficult."
Fragments of conversation sounded in his ear:
"...the new directives from above are becoming increasingly... specific..."
Jans nodded understandingly:
"Yes, supplies are dwindling. Millennia of exploitation are taking their toll." He lowered his voice, looking around. "Tell me, do you spend a lot of time in archives? Reading old documents, studying historical records?"
"It's an integral part of my work," Luthen replied cautiously, trying not to lose the thread of the overheard conversation. The voices of the officers continued in his ear: "...my people are also receiving strange orders... resource mobilization, priority redistribution..."
"Of course, of course." The director took a sip of brandy, as if gathering resolve. "You see, I have a business proposition for you. If, in your research, you come across any mention of... let's say, Transition Matrices—any leads, coordinates, even vague hints—inform me immediately."
Luthen feigned interest:
"Transition Matrices? That's the basis for producing hyperspace engines..."
"You are informed." Jans raised an eyebrow. "A true professional, I see." Jans took a small plastic card with a communicator frequency from his pocket and discreetly handed it to Luthen. "We are prepared to pay very generously for any information. More than you've earned in your entire life. We will organize the expedition ourselves, handle all the technical issues—all you need to provide is the information."
"Direct contact with me, bypassing the usual channels. Very convenient for... delicate business matters," Jans explained.
"I understand," Luthen carefully put the device in his pocket. "I will certainly keep my eyes open. Although I must warn you—such artifacts are extremely rare..."
"We understand. But even the slightest lead can be invaluable." Jans shook his hand. "I'm counting on your cooperation, Mr. Rael."
After Jans left, Luthen continued to move around the hall, enjoying the capabilities of his listening device. He approached the display case with ancient crystals, where a couple of influential ladies—wives of high-ranking officials—were conversing. Pretending to examine the exhibits, he directed the ring towards them and heard an interesting fragment:
"...my husband has been very nervous lately. He says something strange is happening in the ministry..."
"Mine too. Constant closed meetings, some secret projects..."
***
Luthen slowly moved to the next display case, where his own exhibit—an ancient medical scanner—was showcased. A group of scientists stood nearby, and he decided to join their conversation.
"An amazing device," he said, nodding at the scanner. "This specimen is still functional, even though it's over three thousand years old."
"Amazing," replied an elderly scientist with tired eyes. "We in our laboratory have been studying ancient devices for many years. And what do we know? Practically nothing."
"Really nothing?" asked his colleague, a younger researcher.
"We know that our device works. We know which buttons to press to get the desired result. We can describe the external manifestations of its functions. But do we understand the principles of its operation?" The old man gave a bitter chuckle. "It's like studying a living organism with access only to its shadow."
Luthen listened attentively, periodically directing the ring at other groups of guests. The atmosphere was indeed strange—externally, everything looked like a normal social reception, but the overheard fragments created a picture of hidden tension.
Near the display case with navigation computers, he noticed a group of high-ranking Imperial officers—the same ones whose conversation he had partially heard earlier. Now, approaching under the pretext of examining the exhibits, he could hear their conversation fully:
"...it gives the impression that something large-scale is being prepared," said a colonel in an Imperial Army uniform.
"But what exactly—no one is saying," added a third officer. "Even at my level, information is extremely limited."
"Times are changing," the admiral with a scar on his cheek remarked philosophically. "Old methods are working worse and worse. Perhaps those at the top understand the need for... drastic solutions."
Luthen slowly moved away from the group, processing what he had heard. The string quartet had changed the melody to something more solemn—apparently, some official part of the program was being prepared. The lights of Coruscant outside the panoramic window seemed particularly bright against the backdrop of these disturbing conversations.
At the bar, located next to the display case of holographic artworks, a small group of people had gathered, animatedly discussing the exhibits. Luthen ordered himself a Corellian whiskey and discreetly joined the conversation.
"Remarkable preservation," said one of the middle-aged men, pointing to the slowly changing three-dimensional images in the display case. "Three thousand years, and the holoprojections are still clear."
"Yes, the image quality is excellent," agreed his interlocutor, an elderly man with a gray beard. "They knew how to make things. Although the technology is completely different from ours."
"Excuse me for interrupting," said Luthen, "but I can't help but admire these holoprojections. The technology is truly amazing."
"Are you a collector?" inquired the elderly man.
"Luthen Rael," he introduced himself. "I trade in antiquities, sometimes participate in exhibitions. And you, judging by your appearance, are from academic circles?"
"Dr. Weiss," nodded the elderly scientist. "Institute of Applied Crystallography. And these are my colleagues—Professor Dantes and Dr. Lorik."
"Very pleased to meet you," Luthen shook hands with all three. "Surely you study similar technologies?"
"No. This was my youthful passion. I studied archaeotechnology back then," Weiss replied with a bitter chuckle. "Although 'study' is too strong a word for what we did."
"Weiss, don't start again," Professor Dantes warned.
"What? Mr. Rael works with artifacts, he must understand the reality," Weiss took a sip of whiskey. "Tell me honestly, Mr. Rael, what do you think about studying these devices? Will we be able to reproduce them?"
Luthen shrugged cautiously:
"I'm not a scientist, but... isn't progress inevitable? Sooner or later..."
"Sooner or later?" Weiss shook his head. "You know, in my youth, I thought so too. Forty years ago, I was tasked with studying a device. I won't say which one—it's probably still classified. I was full of enthusiasm, believed I could unravel its secrets."
He paused, swirling his glass.
"And what did you discover?" Luthen asked gently.
"That reverse-engineering technologies that far surpass your own is practically impossible," Weiss chuckled bitterly. "We can only study devices that match our technological level. Those where the gap is minimal."
"Weiss is right," sighed Dr. Lorik. "If the technological gap is too large, then nothing will come of it."
"Imagine a savage," Weiss continued, warming to the topic, "who found a datapad. He can twist it in his hands as much as he wants, he can even take it apart screw by screw. But will he be able to reproduce it?"
"Theoretically, if he understands the principle..." Dantes began.
"No!" Weiss interrupted him. "To create a datapad, you need the entire technological chain. Computing crystals, power sources, casing materials, software. Each component requires a separate technology, a separate scientific base, trained minds. In essence, to create one datapad, you need to recreate an entire civilization!"
Luthen nodded understandingly:
"So, ancient artifacts..."
"Are useless!" Weiss exclaimed heatedly. "At least, from the perspective of reproducing technologies. We can use them, we can compile operating instructions, but understand the principles of operation..." He waved his hand. "Excuse me, Mr. Rael, this must sound sacrilegious to you."
"Not at all!" Luthen replied hastily. "I completely agree with you. Although I must admit that archaeotechnology remains incredibly interesting."
"Oh yes," Weiss agreed, his eyes gleaming. "Interesting, fascinating, mysterious. But practically useless for the development of our own science."
"Perhaps the problem is the approach?" Luthen suggested cautiously. "Maybe we should study not the devices themselves, but the principles underlying them?"
"We've tried," the doctor replied wearily. "But how can we study principles when we don't understand the basic physics? It's like trying to understand a symphony while being deaf."
"That's exactly why I say it's a lost cause," Weiss concluded. "We are doomed to remain users of other people's technologies without understanding their essence."
***
At that moment, Luthen noticed several ISS agents discreetly moving closer to the center of the hall. Apparently, the arrival of someone truly important was expected. He directed the ring towards the nearest agent and caught a fragment of a conversation over the internal comms:
"...the object is approaching... reinforce the perimeter..."
Luthen slowly moved away from the bar, pondering what he had heard. The string quartet suddenly stopped playing, and relative silence fell in the hall. All eyes turned to the main entrance, where a figure in a dark cloak appeared—clearly a high-ranking Imperial official, accompanied by personal guards. Luthen preferred to stay away. He wasn't yet at that level.
***
He spent the rest of the evening gathering scraps of information from dozens of conversations, using his listening device. By the end of the reception, he had a clear picture of the situation.
Something had changed. The highest echelons of power were preparing some large-scale measures, of which even high-ranking officers were unaware.
As he left the reception, Luthen noticed a group of particularly influential guests—including Jans, several senators, and the director of a major technology corporation—discreetly leaving the main hall and heading for one of the private rooms in the tower. Their faces were serious, and their movements were cautious. ISS agents escorted them, which only confirmed the importance of what was happening.
Returning to his apartment in the elite district, Luthen didn't immediately contact Alex. He needed time to process what he had seen and heard. He poured himself a glass of Corellian whiskey and settled into an armchair by the panoramic window.
Coruscant outside the panoramic window stretched to the horizon, creating an illusion of stability and prosperity. But now he knew that this stability was an illusion. The system had been slowly but steadily degrading for millennia. And everyone had gotten used to it, considering it the natural order of things.
But something had made the Imperial leadership activate. Something that required "drastic solutions" and large-scale resource mobilization.
Luthen took out the card Jans had given him and examined it carefully.
"Interesting," he thought. The Corellian Engineering Corporation was willing to pay exorbitant sums for information about Transition Matrices. This meant their own supplies were depleting faster than official reports indicated.
He recalled the words of the elderly scientist about the impossibility of reverse-engineering. If that were true, then galactic civilization was doomed to slow degradation. Sooner or later, the last artifact would fail, and then...
Then collapse would come," Luthen realized. Not quick and dramatic, but slow and agonizing. Systems would fail one by one, communication between worlds would be disrupted, living standards would fall...
But the Imperial leadership, it seemed, was not going to passively wait for this moment. They were preparing some plan. Something so large-scale and secret that even admirals and generals received only fragmented information.
Luthen activated the encrypted communication channel with Alex. It was time to share the gathered information.
Alex's face appeared on the holoprojector a few minutes later. Even through the interference, it was clear that he looked concerned.
"How was the reception?" he asked without preamble.
"Very informative," Luthen replied. "And quite disturbing. It gives the impression that something large-scale is being prepared."
He recounted the conversation with Jans in detail, mentioned the strange orders Imperial officers were receiving, and the scientists' discussion. Alex became interested when he heard a name, but continued to listen, only asking clarifying questions occasionally.
"Interesting," he finally said. "If the CEC is openly looking for new sources of Transition Matrices and is willing to pay such money, then the situation is more critical than official reports show."
"Kyle Jans..." Alex thoughtfully rubbed his nose bridge. "Perhaps he's an old friend of mine from the Corellian Technological Institute. I'll send you a holophoto now."
A few seconds later, an image appeared on the projector—a young man in his mid-twenties, with a confident gaze and a slight smile.
"Him?" Alex asked.
Luthen studied the photograph carefully, comparing it with his memories of the evening reception:
"Yes, it's him. Only he looks older now, of course. But the facial features are the same."
"Do you think this can be used in any way?"
"No," Alex shook his head. "We are clearly on different sides. This will not end well."
Luthen nodded.
"And what about these 'drastic solutions'?" Luthen asked. "Do you have any ideas what they might be preparing?"
Alex thoughtfully rubbed his chin:
"There are several possibilities. Perhaps they are planning a large-scale expedition into the Unknown Regions—to search for new sources of artifacts. Or preparing a program for forced mobilization of scientific resources. Or maybe..."
He paused, as if considering something unpleasant.
"Or maybe they are planning something more radical. If civilization is truly doomed to collapse, perhaps they want to control this process. A controlled crisis instead of chaotic disintegration."
"You think they might intentionally accelerate the degradation?"
"It's not impossible. If you know that a building will collapse sooner or later, it's better to demolish it with a controlled explosion than to wait for it to fall on passersby."
Luthen pondered this idea. It was logical, but frightening.
"But then what will they build on the ruins?"
"That's the question," Alex replied grimly. "Perhaps a more centralized system. Perhaps a technocratic dictatorship, where science will be completely subordinate to the state. Or perhaps..."
He didn't finish, but Luthen understood the implication. Perhaps they weren't planning to build anything at all. Perhaps the goal was chaos itself.
After the connection ended, Luthen sat in his armchair for a long time, contemplating the information he had received. The picture was disturbing. On one hand, the slow but steady degradation of the civilization's technological base. On the other hand, some secret plans of the Imperial leadership that could drastically change the situation.
But in any case, the old world was dying. The only question was what would replace it. And whether ordinary people in the galaxy would have any chance of survival in the coming changes.