Chapter 3: Dark Scoundrel
"So, who exactly are we looking for? And why do we need a pilot?" asked Bastila as they walked through the lower city of Coruscant, the industrial area around mirroring the poverty that came across every turn.
But Jayarede had learned to use it. He had learned to feel the pain, the suffering of those around him, and he looked at it from all perspectives, all points of view, until he could find the true problem. It helped his perception of the force increase, and it made him wiser and stronger with the force if he could feel the problem.
"Jayarede, I asked you a question."
"You'll see."
Jayarede could see wisps of his breaths as he spoke, the rain pouring down on the cold Coruscant streets. But Jayarede's water-proof grey-Jedi cloak covered the black leather robes he wore inside, the same robes that the Sith Assassins on Peragus had worn. The only part of his dark skin that showed was his eyes and stubble-covered face, as his hood covered the fairly long black hair.
He was aware of everything around him, from Bastila's steady breathing, to the presence of revenge and darkness that told him that they were getting close.
"Wait. I feel something . . . something of the dark side. Almost like a power," whispered Bastila as they stopped near an alleyway.
"That means that we are getting close," said Jayarede.
"You seek help from a . . . a Sith?"
"Don't be so quick to judge the Sith. You use the dark side now, so technically, you too are part Sith, even if you do use the light side to fuel you. The dark side carries more than you know. There are not only Sith." He said ominously.
He tore off his cloak, letting his assassin robes show. "Wait here," he whispered.
He quickly crept past the alleyway, but not after activating his Eradu Stealth Generator. A few steps in, he saw about five aliens of different races surrounding a man. The man had light skin and short brown hair that spiked out at the front. But that held no loom over his face, which had the strange feeling that he was always suspicious that something was watching over his back. His eyes were almost evil, much like Jayarede's eyes, except that his irises and pupils were blank. There was some edge to him that hinted he was in his early twenties. He had a menacing presence, but he was actually quite handsome.
So you here. We be looking for you for long time. Big bounty on head, could give us fortune! laughed a typically slimy rodian with a heavy rifle.
The man's fingers twitched towards his belt pistol, but his arm was left unmoving.
Jayarede took the two Echani Pistols that he kept in the small packs under the leather flaps on his assassin's robe that covered his thigh and quads both back and front, neatly wrapped around his black leather pant.
'A Jedi Watchman always has a handy pistol at his side,' he thought humorously.
This is enough! Let's get him! Roared a twi'lek who lunged at the man with his vibroblade. But before his blade could come down, two laser shots were engrained in his chest, and he fell limply to the floor.
"Anyone comes near me; dead." His words were short and simple, yet he spoke with a menacing, intimidating voice.
Four aliens were left. They looked at each other, and nodded.
Fire! Roared a Trandoshan. The Trandoshan ran towards him with his vibrosword, but was shot down. The man quickly feinted to the right to avoid a blaster bolt, then shot down the Devaronian that shot it. But before he could react, the rodian rained a score of rapid fire on the man, who was caught on his side. His thin shirt burned as the blaster fire tore his skin.
He screamed in pain, crumpled to the ground, and tried desperately to breathe normally as the Rodian crept up to him, ready to fire the final killing blow.
But that was when Jayarede came in. Without making a sound, he slid to the left, positioned both of his pistols until he knew one would hit the back of the alien's head, while the other would catch his thigh.
He pulled the trigger with force and retracted it back with a steady jerk, spurring the blast off with extra propelling force. The laser bolts flew and spun through the air until they met their intended destination. Jayarede smiled coldly. The place where he aimed at was a . . . a beheading point. The Rodian's slime head slipped off and rolled on the floor, whereas the body fell lightly to the ground with a thump.
Just the moment Jayarede deactivated his Eradu Stealth Generator, Bastila came running around the alley.
"What happened?!" she asked, exasperated.
Jayarede held up a hand to silence her, after he had slipped his Echani Pistols back into the small slots. His eyes were on the man, who was breathing heavily.
The man winced as he stood up to lean against the wall. Blood was still gushing out of his stomach and side, his skin left bare and exposed to the pouring rain.
"Who . . . cough, cough, who are you?" he rasped into the air. Strangely, his irises and pupils had returned after the Rodian fell, making his eyes completely normal.
Jayarede walked forward until he was right in front of the man, with Bastila right behind him, her hands itching for her lightsaber. "Calm down . . ." breathed Jayarede irritatingly as he saw Bastila's narrowed eyes, and uncomfortable aura. "Don't rip him to shreds. He's just what we're looking for."
"What makes you think I am going to help you, Jedi?" hissed the man coldly. "I'm Drendellean of Gourged. One of the finest bounty hunters in all the core worlds. So if you think that saving my life will get you my loyalty, then think again, Jedi!"
"Well, it sure looks like the 'Greatest Bounty Hunter of the Core Worlds' has his hands on top of things. Getting you stomach blasted open and cracking your ribs is all in a day's work, isn't it? You're too tough for a Rogue, too smart for a soldier, and too arrogant for a scout. So let me make a proposal to you, scoundrel. I've heard of your skills. If you ensign with us, I'll give you ten thousand credits once we reach our destination."
Drendellean cocked an eyebrow. After narrowing his eyes, hiding his deep thought behind a wall of coldness and hate that was sprawled on his face, he finally spoke in a voice rough, yet which the same volume effect of a whisper, "Alright, Jedi. I'll be your pilot, slicer, repair man, pistol-jockey, or clown; any of those five things. If you want a heavily-armed assault marine with five tons of armor on their back and the stiffness of a bodyguard, then you have the wrong man. I'm just in this for the credits. Oh, and yes. I've had bones broken and organs ripped open many times. I . . . have my ways of surviving." His hand seemed to twitch toward an array of stims on his pack.
Jayarede gave a satisfied smile. He simply started walking, and went past Bastila. Drendellean followed as he injected the stims in his side, ignoring the gushing blood with an aura of endurance. As he walked by, he saw Bastila narrow her eyes, but then follow behind him.
"The Capitol ships are in position, Commander. All of the soldiers and their families have boarded on the Interdictor ships, as you ordered. But, why put the civilians on the capitols ships, commander?"
Revan scratched the stubble on his face before he put his mask back on, hiding whatever expressions that could betray him. "We don't have enough money for transports, plus they will be well protected in the defenses. But anyways, how long should it be before we are in hyperspace travel?"
"One week, sir."
Revan ignored him as he looked at the huge hangar, holding the Interdictor ship, Fire Siphoner II, a duplicate of Saul Karath's Leviathan, and a second to Revan's old flagship during the Mandalorian and Jedi Civil wars, and his new flagship now. Their entire fleet was now in space, about fifty capitol ships in a formation, with the Fire Siphoner II in the middle. Only about eighty thousand people had joined them, and only about thirty thousand of them being soldiers. Revan knew he was leaving the other hundred thousand humans to die in suspicion of treason, and he knew that he should have felt guilty about what he did, but he somehow felt no remorse, no pity. It had been that way ever since he had his memories back after the Star Forge, after he had 'saved' the Republic.
"Sir?" asked the captain. He had very dark skin, and a shaven head.
"Huh? Oh, yes, very good. Once we are in hyperspace, it should only be three weeks after we enter hyperspace before we get to the Mandalore System, our destination."
"Sir," objected the captain, "it will take more life three or four months to cover so many light-years."
"You underestimate the reliability of the Rakata Capitol ships," hissed Revan. He suddenly faltered, realizing who he was sounding like.
"Yes, sir!"
As he left, Revan for the first time thought what it would be like to see everyone that he left behind again. He knew one thing. The Republic would be stable and ready, under the flag of Carth Onasi. And the Jedi would be ready, by the help of an old friend. He had seen the future, and he had seen the return of the Jedi Exile.
And the galaxy would soon see the return of Revan. Savior, conqueror, hero, villain, Jedi, Sith, Commander.
Chapter Four: The Front Lines
"Well, this sure beats the streets," scoffed Drendellean as he laid down on one of the sofas in Bastila's apartment in the living room.
"Get off! I just decided not to chop you to pieces, and I'm not going to let you lie on my couch!" shrieked Bastila as Drendellean was thrown into the wall with the force.
"Relax, Princess. The mean little bounty hunter isn't going to ruin your little chair," mocked Jayarede, who couldn't help but give out a laugh.
Drendellean heaved himself up, wiping the blood away from the nose he had cut while being thrown to the wall. "Look, Jedi. I sit where I want. You think I trust a Jedi? I saw what happened on- Never mind. Thing is, I know you might have a thing for a smuggler, but I do what I want." His words were hissed, and every sound he made, it was of hate, anger, passion.
Bastila let out a breath. "The Dark Side runs through you strongly, almost as if you are a . . . a shrine of darkness. If you try one thing, you will be beheaded before you can say 'dark Jedi!'"
"Shut up! Both of you! You can kill each other after we reach the Mandalore system. But for now, we need to stay on the task at hand!" hissed Jayarede. Bastila and Drendellean glowered at each other, neither one giving up. Tensions gripped inside the three of them, until Bastila finally backed down. Drendellean grinned at his victory, and turned to on of the bedrooms (Bastila took the main bedroom, while Jayarede slept on the floor in the mediation chambers).
After he closed the door, Jayarede turned to Bastila. "Why don't you trust him? When I first saw you again, I felt your mind's structure and your underlying power of the light, yet you were fueled by the passion and the determination, the anger, of the dark side. Tell me, when we were at the academy, you were always the Master's Pet, a follower of the light side, always scolding us when we did something wrong as if you were one four years older, not us. Since when did you become a gray Jedi?"
Bastila turned to the window, laying her hand at the windowsill, the loud noises of Coruscant raging outside. "It- it's a long story."
"Oh, just shut up and spit out the damn story!"
Bastila sighed. "It started when Revan turned to the dark side and led his armada out against the Republic. In the middle of the war, I had to face the daunting task of leading an assault on his flagship and capturing him on the bridge. You don't understand what I was feeling, knowing that the man that I loved, that was always there for me, was either going to kill me and the other Jedi, or I would kill him with the help of the Jedi. I knew capture was not a choice. So as I faced him on the bridge, time seeming to stop, Malak fired on the bridge and Revan was knocked out, almost dead."
Bastila stopped for a while. Jayarede was listening intently at the story, taking in every word and its meaning, trying to work out all the pieces. "And then?"
"Well, I couldn't leave him there for dead. I should have, for the sake of the galaxy, but I couldn't. I took him to the Jedi Council, and they reprogrammed his damaged mind, and made him a smuggler, who was hired under my command."
"You brainwashed Revan?!" rasped Jayarede in disbelief, and signs of anger. "You mean he forgot about everything, about you, about Malak, about me? He forgot all about his best friends and his lover? Or did you love him, only used him as a tool to of the Jedi. It wouldn't be the first time!"
His words hit Bastila like a rod of cortosis. Tears welled up behind her eyes, as she masked what she could in a contortion of emotions.
Jayarede took a step back, realizing what he had just said. "I'm . . . I'm sorry. Continue."
Bastila took a gulp, then breathed slowly. "So when we were on the same ship, it was destroyed, and he, I, and a Republic war hero Carth Onasi, crash landed on Taris."
"Admiral Onasi?" asked Jayarede as he remembered the conversation with him before he went to Malachor. "So you mean your ship was the Endar Spire?"
"Yes. Anyways, I was a prisoner from a gang. Revan eventually was able to free me, and we got off the planet with the help of a Mandalorian named Canderous-"
"Ordo," finished Jayarede in disbelief.
"Y-yes, Ordo." 'How the hell did he know that?' "Anyways, we got off Taris, which was then bombed by Malak. We went to the academy on Dantooine, where Revan trained to be a Jedi Sentinel, like you and me and like he did before, and we went on a quest to find the star forge. Through the course of the journey, Revan followed truly to the path of the light side. But as we got to the third star map – which were clues to finding the star forge, which you already know about – he started to breed anger and hate, and started to get unsure and confused. Before we went into space after finding the third of four star map, he . . . he said he loved me."
There was a long silence. It was now raining heavily outside again, thunder now sounding.
"Did you still love him?" asked Jayarede.
Bastila sighed. "Yes. Yes I did. And, for the first time in eight years, I said it, and memories from before the wars came rushing back. We . . . decided to keep it off until the end of the mission."
"And then something terrible happened, didn't it?"
"Yes. We were pulled in from orbit by the Leviathan, as you know about. We managed to escape, but before we did, we faced Malak. He and Revan dueled, but Malak stopped. He said that there was more of his old self in him than he expected. Revan didn't know what he was talking about, so he revealed Revan's secret. He was . . . shocked, to say the least. He blamed me for not telling him, and a blast of anger, hate, confusion, and love burst through him. He dueled Malak again, but this time, he pushed Malak to his limits. He fought like a Sith. But eventually, Malak defeated him. But before he could pull the finishing blow, I came in and held him off so that Revan and Carth could get back to the Ebon Hawk.
"I could feel through our Force Bond that he was shattered, confused, and angry, as they went for the last star map. But Malak turned me to the dark side. He told me that if I became his apprentice, Revan would be spared. I accepted, but I was unable to control my emotions, so I fell. We then met on a Rakatan temple, where we chose the light side over me. We again met at the star forge, when all I wanted was to kill him and prove myself. But he defeated me, and he turned me back to the light side. He said he still loved me. And I . . . I had to face the truth. I had become a monster, and yet he still stood up for me, even after all I had done to him. I was redeemed. The rest you know. He killed Malak, became a hero, he left, everyone was shocked, thought he was dead, then moved on."
"You still haven't answered my question," observed Jayarede. "How come you became a gray Jedi after he redeemed you?"
Bastila turned to Jayarede for the first time. "After that, it all went well. Revan became a Knight, and a Jedi Watchman soon after, the first in many years. But, I could never turn back to the light fully. And neither could Revan. So he embraced the entity of the force as it is truly, and so did I. I had little choice, anyways. I had to leave the order, for it was corrupt. The old order was a democracy, where the Jedi Watchman would oversee the Jedi Masters, who would command the Jedi Weapon Masters, who would oversee the Watchman, who would all govern over the Knights and Padawans and Apprentices. It was then nothing more than an Oligarchy. The Watchman and Weapon Masters are gone, and the arrogant Masters rule with the light side, but a manipulated light side. Nihilus did a favor by whipping them out.
"But again to Revan, when he killed Malak, the swirl of the force caused Revan to become Revan again, starting right where he left off on his flagship. And everything that his programmed identity did, even defeating Malak seconds earlier, became a distant memory. And he remembered you . . . saying something before you went back after Malachor. And it told him you would return. So I have been waiting this whole time, waiting for you, as he told me to. Are you satisfied now?"
That last statement hung in the air. Did he know what he wanted to? Yes. Was he satisfied? No. He opened his mouth to say something, but turned around and headed for the meditation room, while Bastila went to her room.
Drendellean lay down on the bed, looking out of the window into the Coruscant night. He sighed as his irises and pupils once again went blank, but then back to normal after a few seconds, when he exhaled. He had to get them to the Mandalore System. And it wasn't just for the credits.
There was a vibration in his pocket, so he took out his small holodisk and laid it on his hand, standing up straight. A figure then appeared.
He was clad in greenish-gray body armor, with a huge rifle in his hands that looked like it weighed a ton. Since he wore no helmet, and the ragged face of a man in his sixties with battle scars all over his face, and a tired, ravaged look in his eye gave a subtle edge to his already menacing look. But despite his age, hair was combed back and touched the tip of his armor. The hair looked like it was newly grown after a long time with a short cropped style. Matching his hair, a thick gray beard worked across his face, and anyone who fought in the Mandalorian wars would know exactly who that was.
"I have the Exile, Mandalore. My dark aura was able for him to find me. The plan worked. The best thing is that his intended destination was the Mandalore system in the first place," said Drendellean as he went on one knee in front of the holodisk, bending his head in a slight bow.
When he spoke, the man's voice was rough and deep. "Good. I have gathered the Mandalore clans together, and we are now moving to the Mandalore system, our old fortress before the Wars, and the place of our founding. We will then settle on Mandalore Prime, where the old city of the Mandalorians will once again shroud in glory. But you must bring him here!" the last sentence was hissed, cold, and menacing. "I don't need to tell you the consequences if he is dead. Am I understood, scoundrel?"
Drendellean's face remained passive. "Yes, Mandalore. But may I ask one thing?"
"Speak."
"Do you intend to interrogate the Exile after we bring you to him, for answers?" Drendellean asked with a gleefully cold tone in his voice.
"The Exile is an ally."
Slight disappointment emanated from Drendellean. "What about the Jedi whom I travel with? Bastila Shan? What about her?"
"She, too, is an ally. We will need her and the Exile to fight the true enemy."
"Revan!" Drendellean breathed, half to himself. It was almost as if the pieces were fitting together.
The man shook his head in the projector. "No. Revan, in fact, is the one whom we all serve. He is the main catalyst in the war that is to come. We Mandalorians are just here to aid him. And you are the one that will take Jayarede, who will take the Jedi. Don't fail me, or else it will be the last oath you ever break." And the hologram disappeared.
Drendellean got up, put the holodisk back in his pocket, and headed out into the main room. So this was it. Everything was going to happen in the Mandalore system. The battle of the time, and he would be there to see it, he would be part of it. He was too young to fight in the Mandalore wars or Jedi Civil War, but now, the fate of the galaxy for Millennia, even eons, to come, was on his hands. He instinctually knew that the Mandalore system would be only the first step in something big. He could feel it. He knew it.
There was a low rumble. Drendellean looked out at the landing pad that was connected out of this apartment, and saw a ship dock. Immediately, Bastila and Jayarede came rushing out. Jayarede smiled slightly, but Bastila went pale.
"It . . . it c-can't be! How? Who- Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?!" splattered Bastila, exasperated.
"It looks like the Hawk has caught it's prey. Oh, the fastest ship in the galaxy. Let's go." They went through the door out of the living room, where it connected out of a landing pad, and the Ebon Hawk stood. A small utility droid came rushing out the loading ramp.
It started bleeping hysterically as it reached Jayarede, it's "eye" flashing on and off as if it were malfunctioning.
"No," muttered Bastila. "No way. It . . . it can't be. If you were the one he found, then . . . "
"Then what?" said Jayarede, "So I found the Hawk one day. Surprised? Come on. Let's get to the ship. Now let's see how good of a pilot you really are, bounty hunter."
Drendellean's eyebrow cocked, giving a, 'All right, I'm listening. What's your offer?' look.
Jayarede smiled devilishly, then looked out at the sky. "The Coruscant blockade lies above this planet's orbit. The entire Republic fleet is orbiting this solar system of the core worlds, and Coruscant is the one Core World especially guarded. About a hundred thousand Capitol ships – containing a total of about eighty-million Republic troops – Are covering this system. I am now a Hero – confidentially, of course – to the Republic fleet. If they identify us, we will be brought in for questioning, and that won't be good, for they will be on our backs this whole journey. I need you to use maneuvering, stealth, cloaking, and good timing to get us out of here unseen and undetected. Can you do that, scoundrel?"
Drendellean's expression looked passive, with his regular tainted apathy to it, until something of a slight smiled crept on his face. "You're crazy. I like crazy."
"Kelborn, I need an update. How many of our Capitol ships have already landed on Mandalore Prime? What clans did they hold?" commanded Mandalore, his voice rough and intimidating, as always. His helmet only added to his menacing aura.
Kelborn bowed curtly at Mandalore, who was looking out from the bridge of the Mandalorian Capitol ship. "Clan Ferdorn, Clan Dusk, and Clan Bullfire have already landed and are now colonizing Mandalore City. We now have about five hundred Capitol ships in space, and about fifteen on ground in Mandalore City. Our current soldier count is two million Mandalorians, around."
Mandalore continued to stare out at the Mandalore System, at the different planets that were now being colonized. There were four planets in the system, including Mandalore Prime, their new be of operations. 'Two million,' he thought as he gazed out. There weren't even seven hundred soldiers when the Exile arrived on Dxun. It had been six months since the destruction of Malachor, and the Exile had given him the same order as Revan had given him. Gather the Mandalorian clans. And he did. Traveling the space, he found thousands of different clans. Turned out Ordo wasn't the only group to gather themselves. He then sent the clans to Dxun, an excess of almost two million, and here they were, in the Mandalore system. It was miraculous, after only thirteen years, the Mandalorians were a force again – nothing, compared to the Republic – but a force growing and powerful.
He remembered his first battle, as he and the Mandalorians had joined with Exar Kun forty-five years ago. He was only fifteen, but he remembered the thrill of the battle. And here he was, sixty years old, now joining forces with the Republic.
"Mandalore?"
"Yes, very good. Prepare a shuttle. I wish to see Mandalore prime. I haven't seen it since we began our crusade twenty five years ago, and I need to oversee the colonization. You keep the fleet in order and control the colonization of the other three planets. Give me constant updates. I'll be in my chambers. Any who disturb me without a call first will be stripped of their rank and imprisoned. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Mandalore!"
He walked half-subconsciously to his room. This ship was almost exactly like the Ravager, another Mandalorian vessel. Yet this ship was not damaged, and it had a metallic feel to it. On the inside, it was completely different. The walls were made of gleaming metal, lighting the whole ship from the inside. They were a lot like the Republic capitol ships, but with a more organic architecture. It was even menacing, to some extent.
Mandalore sighed as he got to his room – it was small, one-man, with a bathroom door in the corner and only one bed on the wall – and as he laid his hologram projector on his bed. Suddenly, a man in black robes and dark-gray chest plating appeared over the projector.
Mandalore bowed on one knee in front of the man. "We have begun colonizing the Mandalore system, and Mandalore city is already in full battle readiness once we station our troops there. We will be ready for whatever your little enemies could throw against us!" Mandalore proudly proclaimed.
It was clear from the hologram that the man – who also had a great black hood covering his hair and head – had a faint smile on his lips, and his fierce eyes lit a little. "Once again, you underestimate your opponent, Canderous. These True Sith are as strong as a Mandalorian. The fact that they outnumber your small army twenty-thousand to one doesn't help matters, either. You said you had two million this morning, right? I need at least fife-hundred thousand more. These are the front lines, Canderous! Surely you, of all people, should know that keeping that held for a long time could be crucial in a war! Don't get too comfortable. You'll be forced to retreat soon enough, where you will return on Dxun. Oh, and how is the colonization there?"
Mandalore slightly flinched at the sound of that name, 'Canderous.' He had not been called that in a long time. "It is going well. We have installed three new Battle camps. And Onderon is getting daily reinforcements from the Republic. There are now almost a million soldiers stationed around Onderon, them and the Republic. That whole system is well guarded."
Revan nodded. "Good. They will be crucial in the war to come. And so will you, Canderous. As Mandalore, I tell you in advance that you will be given a job in this war, you and your Mandalorian allies.
"I leave you to the colonization. Make sure the defenses are strong. We need more reinforcements." And he vanished.
Mandalore got to his feet. Thoughts were racing through his mind, stopped by a ringing sound.