CORUSCANT, 40 YEARS ABE:
The hallway in which Lando now found himself was dark, small, and smelled like wet rot and old mold. Threepio and Kor Sazen shuffled in behind him and the door slid shut, cutting off the garish lights-and the exit.
Lando shuddered, and tried not to think about how many layers of buildings now towered above them. It made him feel claustrophobic. It wasn't a sensation that anyone who had seen him striding comfortably down the narrowest corridors of Cloud City would have credited their baron administrator with ever experiencing. It wasn't small spaces that bothered him, though; he was perfectly happy on tiny, cramped spaceships with bunks barely big enough in which to roll over and galley kitchens so small you could cook with one hand and cleap-up with the other. He was fine with small spaces; what bothered Lando was the weight.
He didn't like the feeling of being trapped, being buried. It didn't matter if it was a cave, a space station, or a planet that had had cities spread across it like a disease; when the outside world-whether that be the outside of a world, or pure void, or the swirling other-place emptiness of hypserspace-was muffled by too much solid matter, Lando's skin started to crawl.
He liked knowing where the exits were, liked knowing that the way out was only a step away. Coruscant was a world on which one could easily get lost, yes, but it wasn't a world that was easy to leave.
Lando hated it.
Tenel Ka pushed an archaic manual-hinged door open at the end of the narrow hall and pale light streamed in. Lando managed to keep himself from treading on her heels as they filed out into the open area beyond, but it was a near thing.
He didn't feel much better on the other side: the weight of Coruscant still pressed-down invisibly but inexorably overhead. He brushed at his shoulders, as though it were possible to so easily shake-off the muck of Coruscant's lower levels, and looked around.
They had emerged in what looked like a half-abandoned warehouse. Crates with thick coats of dust stacked perilously high created a maze-like atmosphere. Distant fans overhead had long rusted still, and the air inside was musty and dank. Some sort of filtration system was running, because Lando could smell the inadequate tang of air purifiers. He assumed the faint, laboring whir he could hear from somewhere behind the crates to his right was the source. Whatever the device was, it didn't have enough power to clean the air but hopefully it was at least keeping the levels of mold and toxicity down to a reasonable level. Bacta lung-flushes weren't overly expensive, but they were extremely uncomfortable and Lando had hoped he'd endured his last such treatment seven years ago after that debacle on Bandomeer.
It wasn't until he looked down at the filthy floor that Lando realized that while the dust there was every bit as thick as it was on the crates, neither his own footsteps nor those of the Jedi and droid with him were disturbing it. A chill ran up his spine. Were they using some sort of Force-magic to hold the dust in place and thus hide their presence?
He looked up to ask Tenel Ka and Kor Sazen about it, but the question died on his lips as they turned a corner in the maze of crates and came out into a makeshift enclave. Crates had been turned and tilted and in some cases opened and emptied to create rudimentary sleeping chambers. One of the smallest half-opened crates seemed to contain nothing but Holocrons, those precious repositories of Jedi knowledge and history that could only be accessed by those with control of the Force.
Jedi and ordinary Coruscanti citizens alike were clustered throughout the crude camp. Some of the former were wearing the rustic robes that passed as formal wear for the Jedi Order but others were dressed more idiosyncratically (such as Tenel Ka) or even in basic Coruscant fashions, the latter distinguishable from the non-Jedi only by the lightsabers that hung incongruously at their belts. Lando's quick survey of the camp counted barely a dozen such sabers; most of the beings here were either regular citizens sheltering with the Jedi for reasons of their own, or they were Jedi who had either never fashioned a lightsaber or had failed to bring one with them when they fled the Jedi Center.
Lando was pretty sure he recognized a Senator or two huddling in with the rest. It looked like Revan had been busy.
"Oh, the Jedi have set-up a secret hideout here to avoid Imperial apprehension!" Threepio exclaimed, because nobody was as adept at stating the obvious as a protocol droid; it seemed to be a side-effect of their translation programming. "How clever!"
"Thanks," Kor Sazen said drily. Lando caught his eye and the two men exchanged thin, sardonic smiles.
The smile fled from Lando's face as he walked deeper into the impromptu camp and saw the children. Most seemed to be civilians, but two or three looked like Jedi trainees. Lando knew that the Jedi did most of their schooling at the Praxeum on Yavin IV but periodically students came to Coruscant to study at the center or to have some hands-on experience. That was how he had first met Tenel Ka a few years ago, back when Han and Leia's kids had been, well, kids.
They still looked awfully young to Lando's eyes. So did Tenel Ka, despite her stoic features and warrior's poise.
"'Secret hideout,'" Lando muttered sourly. "Looks more like a refugee camp or a rebel base to me."
"Those are also accurate terms," Tenel Ka observed coolly.
When Lando met her eyes, startled, she gave a one-armed shrug.
"We are at war, Chairman Calrissian. Did you think we had not yet noticed?"
"I...guess it's all just happening a little fast for me to keep up with, kid."
Tenel Ka nodded, hard-faced but not unsympathetic. "Understood. But ask yourself this, Chairman-"
"Lando," Lando corrected with a wince. "Please."
"Lando." Tenel Ka nodded again, accepting the correction. "Ask yourself what Praeceptor Sazen and I were doing when we found you, if not war?"
Lando's brow furrowed. He felt the urge to turn and look at the fearful Coruscanti again, but forced himself to keep his gaze fixed on Tenel Ka's face. "You were protecting civilians," he said. "Jedi don't need a war to do that."
"Kor and I have never been assigned as partners for missions on Coruscant before," Tenel Ka said. It seemed an incongruous statement, and Lando's attention was caught by the sudden swish of Sazen's robes as the Zabrak Jedi stepped away from the rest of them to stride deeper into the camp. He moved with the unnatural poise common to Jedi, but there was something heavy about his steps-something that carried the confidence of a soldier, not a philosopher.
Lando turned back to Tenel Ka and said, "I thought you worked pretty well together."
"This is a fact," said Tenel Ka. "But my point is that we have similar strengths-and shortcomings."
Seeing that Lando was having trouble following, she explained: "We are both warriors. Skilled in battle. Both of us are capable of diplomacy, yes, but it is not our greatest skill-and more importantly, is not either of our first instincts in a fraught situation. That is why we-why Jedi like us, who share those skills and inclinations-are generally paired with those of a more negotiatory impulse." She nodded regally at Threepio, as though in acknowledgment of the droid's prowess in said arena, and Threepio preened at the unexpected recognition.
"I think I get it," Lando said. "It makes sense-you want a broad range of skills so you can be sure people are doing what's best for each situation, not just what they're best at."
"Indeed," said Tenel Ka. "And more than that: you want those whose reflexes will not lead reflexively to violence...unless violence is already the only option that remains."
"Ahh," said Lando, and this time he did get it. His heart sank at the realization.
"Kor Sazen and I have been paired on only two missions before this," Tenel Ka continued gently. "Both were to worlds that were in the grip of violence-warfare. We have never been sent out together on Coruscant's streets before, not even when dealing with slavers or crime lords."
"Because Coruscant was never a warzone before," Lando said softly. "But now…"
Tenel Ka nodded.
Lando was suddenly too tired even to swear.
Tenel Ka curled her lips in a faint smile that was more understanding than amused. "You see," she said, and patted his arm.
Lando was spared the need to respond by the return of Kor Sazen. He was followed by a pale, beautiful humanoid woman with long silver hair and gleaming gray eyes. She was slightly shorter than Sazen but her presence seemed to fill the room without dominating it; she was a beacon of light in the dark warehouse. Lando would have recognized her anywhere.
"Tionne." He swept a bow and she caught his hands in both of hers and smiled warmly.
"Lando. It has been too long." Her lovely face tightened in a frown of concern as she added, "And I fear we have little time for reminiscing now. You are here on a mission from Leia, I am told?"
Lando nodded. "To find you."
"Come with me."
Tionne led him across the cluttered camp, her long robes swishing around her ankles as she gracefully skirted bedrolls, stacks of supplies, and sleeping students and civilians. Lando, who generally prided himself on his own finesse and dexterity, felt uncharacteristically clumsy in comparison and Threepio, shuffling along behind them, might as well have been an entire smazzo percussion band.
They stepped around a crate where a well-dressed Bothan woman with dried blood on her sleeves sat reading from her datapad to a cluster of children whose garments ranged from as fine as her own to the ragged and stained rags of a lower level urchin. Threepio paused and cocked his head, studying the children and their keeper for a moment, then turned to face Lando.
"Sir," he said, "if you don't think you'll need me for a little, I would like to offer my services as storyteller. I have some experience at the task, and no small store of potential tales to tell. I could be of use-"
"That's a great idea," Lando said, and realized only after the words were out of his mouth that he actually meant them as more than an excuse to escape the droid's company. See Threepio was a stiff, pompous, prissy being, but his (metaphorical) heart was always in the right place. The tired Bothan looked like she could use a break, and the children would probably appreciate Threepio's talents for distraction-certainly more than Lando and Tionne would.
He smiled at the droid, who tilted his chest as though puffing-up with pride, squared his rigid arms, and swiveled around to walk back to the children. "Good afternoon," Lando heard the droid say cheerfully, "I am See Threepio, human-cyborg relations, and I have been told that I am quite good at telling stories. If you would like an assistant, mistress-?"
"Please," the Bothan woman croaked, "join us."
"Marvelous!" Threepio shuffled forward eagerly as Lando fell back into step behind Tionne. As he walked away, he heard the droid begin to list his repertoire. "Now tell me, would anyone here like to hear about the Escape From The Death Star? Or perhaps the Battle Of Endor? Oh, or maybe the Saga Of The Disappearing Haircomb or the Tale Of The Gamorrean Who Flies? The Last Artwork Of Grand-Admiral Thrawn! Ah, or maybe the Glorious Flight Of Dinner Squadron! Perhaps the Almanian Uprising, or…"
The droid's voice, and the clamor of his eager audience as they shouted their preferences, fell away into the general noise of the camp as Lando followed Tionne deeper into the crowded maze of crates and shell-shocked citizens.
Opposite the children's makeshift seats stood a stasis-field generator, its emitters pointed towards the row of crates serving as a wall for the hideout. If Lando's sense of direction was correct, it was angled towards the entrance from which he, Tenel Ka, Kor Sazen, and Threepio had first arrived. Its guts hung half-out of its chassis and the madman's collection of junk wired into it would have made even Han wince. Lando paused to give it a closer look, wondering if this was what they were using to hold the dust in place despite the disruption of passing footsteps; he wondered how they'd managed to rig it to create such a thin, wide field, and tried to peer inside…
Abruptly remembering that he had more important things on his mind right now, Lando wrenched his attention away from the mechanical monstrosity and hurried to catch-up to Tionne.
She had stepped into a sort of alcove between stacks and was taking a graceful seat on a crate cushioned by a combination of a crinkly silver survival blanket and a soft brown Jedi robe. It looked like both bedroom and private study, or as close as one could come to such things in ramshackle environs like this. She beckoned for Lando to take a seat on the crate opposite hers and he did so, although he did not fold his legs up into a tailor's seat like she did. Lando was spry, but he was also mature enough to have respect for his knees. He left his feet on the floor like a sensible sentient.
Tionne leaned sideways (her knees apparently required no such respect and neither did her spine) and poured two cups of tea from a sturdy thermos. Lando took the small, battered metal cup she offered with a gracious nod. It looked like the sort of thing that one would unpack from an emergency kit after a spaceship crash but Tionne handled the simple vessel with all the poise of a queen pouring from a devros crystal decanter.
"Under the circumstances, I hope you will forgive me if I forgo the usual pleasantries," Tionne said. Her smile was rueful, an acknowledgment of their situation as much as an apology.
"Please," said Lando. He waved with his free hand, a gesture meant to both acknowledge and encompass the rough camp around them. "You have a lot on your plate right now. I don't want to take up any more of your time than I must."
Tionne nodded sorrowful thanks. "What can the Jedi do for you then, my friend-and for Leia?"
"We-well, she -needs to know about this new emperor, this Revan-imposter." Lando didn't bother explaining any of the history Leia and Bail had shared about the long-dead Darth Revan; Tionne was the galaxy's preeminent living Jedi historian. Whatever there was to know about the original Revan, she almost certainly already knew. That was why Leia had sent Lando here in the first place. "Preferably something that can be used to expose them for an imposter, or otherwise weaken their claim on the Imp-"
Tionne was shaking her head, and her face had grown even more sorrowful. "Oh, no," she said. She lowered her steaming cup of tea to her lap. "No, I'm afraid that is quite impossible."
"I know you don't have access to the center's archives right now," Lando said, "but anything you can remember will help-"
"You misunderstand me." A coil of Tionne's silver hair slipped free of its carved wooden clasp and she pushed it back behind one delicately pointed ear. "We have brought much of the archive's resources with us, but that is not the problem with your request, my friend. I have been studying this emperor since I watched the broadcast of their speech to the Senate. And there is only one conclusion to draw: This is Revan."
The muted bustle of the camp seemed to fall away around them, leaving behind only Tionne and Lando in their little corner of crates and blankets. Her words fell into the emptiness like stones into a hollow pit. If they hit bottom, it was too far away for Lando to hear it but his heart sank to join them nonetheless. Tionne said stofly, "The only Revan. The original."
Lando stared at Tionne. "That...that's not possible. How-?"
"I don't know." The Jedi scholar shook her head, her eyes lowered beneath their pale lashes. "It has been four thousand years since the galaxy has faced a threat like this...and I have no idea how to stop it."
Lando felt like he had just been punched in the chest by a stun-stick. All the air seemed to have rushed out of his lungs and even his bones felt tired. He sagged on his crate, shoulders slumping under the weight of horrified despair.
Then Tionne looked up again. Her silvery eyes were as colorless and glittering at the nighttime stars as she said, "But tell Leia that there is a very faint chance that there's someone who does."
Recently I discovered that I had forgotten to post an entire chapter way back in the first third of the story. Unfortunately, there is no way to insert or re-order chapters on FFnet and thus the only way to fix this error (without literally reposting every chapter since thirty, which seems likely to result in even more errors tbh) is to add it as another section in an existing chapter. Thus, it has been added to CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE if anyone wishes to go back and read the missing part. I apologize profusely!
Note that you can also find this story (and more of my work) on Archive Of Our Own, where it is posted with better punctuation formatting and spacing (as well as a more interactive comments feature). I heartily endorse AO3 and encourage you to come find me there instead!