Star Wars: Escape from the Jedi Temple Begins

Chapter 10 Kosher Planet, Galactic Empire, Jedi Mind Control

With a whoosh, the metal door opened.

Lance strode into the office, his eyes quickly scanning the room.

This is a room of about 30 to 40 square meters, which looks a bit old.

In the very center stood a large metal desk, behind which sat a fat Rodean man holding a bottle of liquor.

He was dressed in well-made clothes, but they couldn't hide his greasy appearance and the fat around his waist.

Its entirely green skin gleamed dimly under the light, and its large, dark eyes bulged slightly.

Its snout protrudes forward like that of a tapir, and its disc-shaped tentacles on its head tremble slightly.

In the corner, there was a pile of greasy junk and leftover food packaging.

A prominent electronic screen was hanging on the wall, playing a news report.

Lance's attention was instantly drawn to it, and a hoarse yet loud voice rang in his ears:

"Today, we witness the end of an era and the birth of a new order."

...

"The Jedi Order...colluded in secret...their plot has been exposed."

"The Jedi attempted a coup; they broke into my bedroom in the middle of the night and tried to assassinate me, the Supreme Chancellor."

...

"The remaining survivors will be hunted down and eradicated!"

"The assassination attempts against me left me scarred and disfigured."

"But I assure you, my resolve is stronger than ever before."

...

"The Galactic Republic, effective immediately, is hereby renamed—The First Galactic Empire!"

......

Lance stared intently at the ugly, hypocritical face on the screen, his anger surging within him.

Palpatine.

This is the person who kept everyone in the dark and orchestrated a war that nearly engulfed the entire galaxy.

It was also he who led Anakin to the dark side, destroyed the Jedi Order, and caused the deaths of countless innocent lives.

Lance took a deep breath, gradually suppressing his anger.

Do not act on your desires; remain steadfast as a mountain.

A Jedi creed flashed through his mind.

Anger only leads to self-destruction.

Only by remaining clear-headed and rational at all times, patiently lying in wait for the right opportunity, can we defeat a powerful enemy.

Now, he only has two things that matter most.

live.

Find a master.

"These days, strange things keep happening... hiccup... don't you think?"

A voice reeking of alcohol reached his ears. Looking in the direction of the voice, he saw the Rodian staring at him.

"really."

Lance nodded and slowly walked to his desk.

boom.

Xanthos slammed the half-empty bottle of liquor onto the table, squinted at him, and slowly curled a cunning smile into his lips.

When he saw the Naboo N-1 starfighter land, he knew that another fat sheep had delivered itself to his doorstep.

To him, that long robe was nothing more than a clumsy disguise.

They couldn't escape his venomous eyes at all.

"A kid who hasn't even grown a beard yet, piloting a very expensive interstellar fighter all by himself."

"Either he's a young master from some family who sneaked out, or... he's just a daring thief."

"No matter what the situation, we're going to rip him off badly today."

In that brief moment, he was already starting to plan how to reward himself tonight.

Should you go to a bar for a good drink, or relax at the Tirek Healing Room?

Hmm... let's go to the therapy room instead.

Although he had already made an appointment with the old drunkard Wyatt, he should be able to understand his "suffering".

Xanthos struggled to his feet, spread his arms, and plastered a false enthusiasm on his face:

"Welcome, my friend."

"However, if you're here to refuel, you've come at a bad time."

Lance glanced at him, his tone calm:

"Quote".

It was indeed a fat sheep!

Xanthos's eyes lit up, and his smile widened even more as he thought to himself, "Looks like a rich young master."

But doing business requires timing and finesse.

If the timing isn't right, profits will be halved.

He cleared his throat, and his slender fingers with suction cups at the tips clasped together, revealing two glittering gold rings.

Xanthos feigned a troubled expression:

"This is not a matter of price."

"Our fuel plant is indeed out of stock."

"As you know, the situation is very tense right now."

"The war has disrupted many fuel transport routes, and fuel supplies here have not been replenished for a long time."

"Our inventory is almost depleted; there's really nothing we can do."

He kept sighing as he spoke, as if it were really true.

Lance didn't believe a word he had just said.

His tone remained calm:

"Quote".

The time was right, and Xanthos feigned generosity:

"Sigh, seeing how sincere you are, I'll reluctantly sell you a little."

"However, under normal circumstances, the price of fuel is 500 credits per liter."

He rubbed his fingers together, his smile widening.

"Now... it's at least five times higher."

"Besides, Republic Credits don't work well in the outer ring, so I won't accept them."

"Payment must be made in the form of equivalent goods."

Lance frowned slightly, staring at the greedy Rodian.

The normal price is around 150 credits per liter.

Even the smuggled price only rises to between 220 and 300.

This guy not only asked for a high price of 500 credits, but also wanted to increase it fivefold.

What a ruthless and greedy businessman!

Lance wanted to be a law-abiding Jedi and galactic citizen.

But for such scoundrels, there are some rules that don't need to be followed.

Moreover, he fled in haste and didn't have enough credits or valuables on him.

Lance didn't argue, he just looked up at him.

The Force was quietly at work.

Raise your hand and wave it gently in front of his eyes, speaking in a calm tone:

"The fuel is full, and you've paid all the fees."

Xanthos was about to retort when his expression suddenly froze.

His gaze briefly went unfocused.

He mechanically repeated the sentence, then reached out and pressed the communicator to give instructions to the worker robot.

Lance looked out the window and saw that the robot had already raised the refueling hose and was aligning it with the fighter jet's fuel inlet to begin operation.

He nodded slightly.

This is the authentic Jedi Mind Control Technique. It's useful and affordable, making it an essential skill for home and travel.

After finishing his business, he worried that Gugu might have problems if he left him alone in the cockpit, so he turned and left the office.

Lance returned along the metal passage and walked up to the N-1 fighter jet.

Gu Gu was sitting in the driver's seat, intently playing with the metal ball, with the respirator tossed aside.

Lance breathed a sigh of relief and turned to look at the R2-P18 with its bright orange-yellow casing.

It wisely opened the hatch.

Lance jumped into the cockpit and immediately closed the hatch.

The brief loss of oxygen did not affect Gu Gu, who sat obediently on his lap.

......

Meanwhile, inside the office.

The communicator suddenly rang.

Xantho frowned, shook his slightly tipsy head, and answered the call.

"Are you drunk?" A familiar laugh came from across the room.

"Stop talking nonsense."

Xanthos snorted, "What is it?"

"You forgot? Come out for a drink."

"I'm busy..."

He stopped abruptly halfway through his sentence.

Xanthos's gaze unconsciously drifted out the window and landed on the yellow fighter jet.

He felt as if he had forgotten something important.

"......etc."

He slapped his head, quickly rummaged in his pockets, and then opened a drawer.

He paused, then his expression slowly changed.

"Damn it... no one has ever dared to mess with me on my turf."

A surge of anger welled up inside him.

Although he didn't understand exactly what had happened, he was determined to doubly recoup the losses.

"Stop fuel delivery!"

Xanthos shouted the order into the terminal, then pressed a conspicuous red button.

Suddenly, a police siren blared inside the fuel plant.

More than a dozen security robots were activated and ran quickly toward the helipad.

The indicator light on the fuel connection line flashed a few times, and the delivery stopped.

Inside the cockpit, Lance immediately noticed something was wrong.

"The mind control technique has failed."