CHAPTER 04 - REKKIAD

Two Years Ago (3955)

"Next time I decide to hide an item from the rest of the galaxy, remind me to choose a warm planet. I hear Ryloth's nice." Pulling his hood tighter around his face, Vann scowled at the desolate tundra that stretched out before him.

"Ryloth is fine if you don't mind dodging lylek and Hutt cartels." Canderous snorted at the thought as he trudged through the shin-deep snow without complaint. "So, do you recognize anything?"

The Hawk had touched down a few kilometers away and was currently hidden beneath a low outcropping that was covered in the same half meter of snow that currently blanketed everything in sight. While the positioning wouldn't hide the ship from an aerial sweep, it was enough to disguise it at ground level. Luckily, Dynamic-class freighters were common enough in this part of the galaxy that its presence wouldn't seem too suspicious and the droids were more than capable of handling any minor problems that might arise.

Cupping his hands around his eyes to block the bright glare Vann looked out across the horizon, searching for anything that matched his memories. At first, all he saw was snow, occasionally broken up by steep hills and jagged cliffs made entirely of ice. There was beauty in the starkness, though none of it resembled the columns from his dreams. He was about to give up and board the Hawk again to search a new sector of the planet when a faint glint in the distance caught his attention. Jogging ahead another few meters he squinted and stared, the indistinct gray landscape gradually coalescing into a misty view of twin spires jutting skyward.

"That's them, the ice formations from my dreams."

"Good," Canderous nodded in approval as he kept walking. "Looks like my theory was right. I'm glad I told the rest of Clan Ordo to move into position before we got here. It's only a few days journey from their current coordinates."

"I know the Mandalorians are a tough people, but there's no way an entire clan can move that fast by foot through this snow."

"Oh, we're not going by foot."

Vann considered asking more, but Canderous's smug smirk made him suspect that whatever transportation the clan had acquired was a secret that wouldn't be revealed until they reached the camp. With a sigh, he rubbed his gloved hands together to warm them and continued to trudge through the snow.

It was another hour of trekking past snowdrifts and scrambling over icy patches before the pair reached their rendezvous point and both men were breathing hard by the time they stopped. Looking around, Vann noted that they were in standing in the center of an open plain shielded by tall rock formations to both the north and northwest. A rocky hill bordered the area to the east, leaving a relatively narrow pathway if they wanted to keep traveling in the direction they'd been moving.

"Charming. It was really nice if your people to invite us to a practical kill box."

"They're not stupid and you're a stranger." Canderous's voice lowered to a dangerous growl. "Make sure you remember that and mind your manners."

A few seconds after the pair stopped walking the click of rifles echoed off the rocks as multiple figures appeared, some of them perched on the precarious ice shelves while others aimed around the formations from ground level. While all of the individuals were dressed for the cold weather, none were wearing full armor. Helmets, chest plates, and shin guards were all visible in various permutations, though it seemed like a few suits of traditional beskar'gam had been repurposed to be worn by half a dozen sentients.

"Hands up where I can see them," a feminine voice demanded as a single figure stepped forward, her face hidden by an orange helmet. "You stand on Clan Ordo's territory, announce yourselves."

Both Canderous and Vann immediately put their hands up, the former stepping forward as he began to speak in Mando'a. "I am Canderous Ordo, born of your clan. A warrior returning to his family after seeking honor afar. I come with no ill intent, but I am ready to fight."

The woman nodded once before responding in the same language. "And have you honored your people in your time away?"

"My thoughts and actions all served to honor the Mando'ade and the Mand'alor."

There was palpable tension at the mention of the currently non-existent Mandalorian leader, but it seemed like this was some form of ceremonial greeting that was supposed to be carried out regardless of the clans' current state. Vann almost felt uncomfortable witnessing it, though nobody else seemed to pay him much attention aside from a few rifles that were trained in his direction.

Canderous's answers must have been appropriate because the Mandalorian woman appeared to relax, her shoulders settling beneath her heavy coat. The rest of the clan also seemed to let out a collective breath, the tension that was swirling through the Force dissolving into a warmer and brighter emotion. As the strange woman stepped forward she removed her helmet, revealing a face that was weathered from time and battle, creased around the eyes and mouth while still rounded at her cheeks. Streaks of red and purple highlighted her black hair, though the colorful strands were stark white towards the roots.

"My heart has returned," the woman commented wryly before wrapping her arms tightly around Canderous and kissing him deeply, a gesture he returned so enthusiastically that Vann felt the need to subtly clear his throat.

"So, I assume this is your wife?"

Grinning proudly, Canderous nodded. "Veela, this is Vann, the mercenary I told you about."

Blue eyes that were nearly as pale as the surrounding ice turned to examine the supposed mercenary, sweeping his figure once before blinking blandly. "He'd better know something useful, because he sure doesn't look impressive."

"Looks aren't everything," Vann quipped back in Mando'a.

There was a bored pause and then, "Stick to Basic, your accent is terrible. Now, what do you know?"

This was the complicated part. Vann obviously couldn't come out and say that he was Revan and even playing the part of a retired soldier or military deserter was likely to cause friction. He needed to guide Clan Ordo without arousing their suspicion, which was why he and Canderous had crafted a believable excuse.

"I met a former Republic soldier on a job a few months back who used to try and impress the rest of us by claiming that he knew where Revan buried a bunch of treasure during the war. He even described the ice columns where the loot was hidden. I always thought he was full of bantha shit, especially since he ended up on the wrong end of a force pike, but then I mentioned his story to Canderous and well… Here we are."

"Huh." Veela continued to look unimpressed. "Fine. Give us all of the details you have and we can send you on your way."

Vann had already planned for this offer, and he smirked lazily as he replied, "How dumb do you think I am? I don't know what you Mandalorians are looking for and honestly, I couldn't care less. But I do know that Revan visited plenty of wealthy worlds during the war and looted more than a few of them. I want my share of his treasure, preferably without having to worry about one of you putting a bolt through my skull when I'm not looking. So, you'll get my information as you need it and not a moment before."

"Honorless mercenary scum!" Baring her teeth, Veela turned to her husband. "How do you even know he's trustworthy? Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot him right here."

"He's a smug bastard but he's damn good at what he does and in the years I've known him, he's never given me bad intel." Canderous shrugged helplessly. "If this information's good, it would explain why none of the clans have found anything in over half a year of searching. We always assumed that Revan stayed close to the equator to avoid the worst of the blizzards. The northernmost coordinates you've told me are at least two thousand kilometers from the Twin Spears."

Holding up his hands placatingly, Vann continued to grin. "Hey, I've got no reason to lie and I'm willing to earn my keep."

"Bah." Brushing one hand over the heavy pistol at her hip, Veela glared at the outsider. "It looks like we're stuck with you for now, so I'm sure as hells keeping an eye on you. Just know that if you slow us down, I'll shoot you. If you're lying to my husband, I'll shoot you. And if you so much as draw a breath that could bring any harm to our clan, I'll shoot you and then run your worthless corpse through with my beskad. Do I make myself clear?"

"Can you repeat point number two for me? I was in a bad crash a few years back and my memory's been shaky ever since."

Snorting in disgust, Veela grabbed Vann by the shoulder and shoved him forward, digging her fingers into his clavicle until sparks of pain shot down his arm. "If you keep running that mouth of yours, I'll shoot you twice just to make a point."

"Ouch! Fine, I get it!"

Chuckling to himself, Canderous shook his head. "He's not that bad once you get used to him."

The snow started falling harder as the entire group trekked their way back to Clan Ordo's camp.

It was so easy for Vann to fall back into the role of the shiftless mercenary whose only care was completing his job so that he could earn his next sum of credits. Sometimes he wondered if this was his true self and his more recent role as a Republic hero was all a strange accident. Maybe Revan really did die and he just happened to share a striking resemblance and a Force connection with a dead man.

The Mandalorians were initially hostile towards him, bristling aggressively when he entered their camp and spotted the collection of weapons, speeders, and repulsorlifts that they were transporting. But their fear and anger flowed even thicker when he caught sight of the Basilisk war droids that were partially hidden beneath waterproof tarps. Seeing the semi-sentient combat units had triggered the return of several memories, mostly consisting of the Mandalorians soaring into combat on their metal beasts. Luckily, his lax expression as he experienced the visions was misinterpreted as indifference.

It was almost a full day before he'd been able to pull Canderous aside to ask about the droids. "The Basiliks… weren't you supposed to destroy those after the war?"

Several tense moments had ticked by before the Mandalorian responded, "Yes. But we didn't."

Vann had considered this new information before nodding thoughtfully. "I'm not sure how I feel about that but I think I'm a little… relieved? I ordered you to destroy your entire culture when you lost."

"It was a fair thing to do. The Republic defeated us and we've often demanded the same of conquered peoples."

"I don't think I understood you back then. I didn't realize that your armor, weapons, and droids aren't just tools of war to you. They're part of your identity as a people."

"They are. Your point?"

"I guess after losing myself I have a little more sympathy. I'm glad you didn't completely destroy yourselves after your defeat. You deserve to keep a little piece of who you are."

Canderous had given Vann a strange look after that, grunting appreciatively before heading back to rejoin his wife and extended family as they gathered around one of the nightly campfires. A few moments later, he'd gestured for his friend to join them.

That conversation had occurred almost two days ago. In the time that followed, Vann managed to ingratiate himself with most of Clan Ordo by repairing one of the Basilisk's damaged circuit boards and generally proving to be a charming and unobtrusive guest. He had his share of stories to tell around the campfire, mostly about mercenary work that bore no mention of the Republic or the war. Once or twice he retold some of the more amusing antics from the search for the Star Forge, carefully disguising any suspicious details to make them sound like jobs that were only notable because of their strangeness.

Tonight he was sitting around the fire with Canderous, Veela, and a few of their most trusted friends. While the blue-eyed woman kept looking at him suspiciously the others didn't seem to share her compunction. One man named Tagren was sitting right beside Vann, his head bowed close as Canderous recounted a particularly harrowing battle that took place during Exar Kun's war.

Frowning softly, Tagren whispered, "You seem lonely."

"Well, I'm not exactly surrounded by friends."

"I know that Veela says you're honorless and only helping us for whatever treasure Revan may have hidden, but I've seen how you act around camp. You respect us. You speak our language and fix our bes'uliik." Targren leaned closer, the firelight flickering across the scar that marred his right cheek. "And I've seen how you move. I can tell that you know how to fight."

"Like I said when I got here, I can earn my keep."

"You may not be Mando'ade but you're still a warrior, the same as the rest of us. Even if you're not surrounded by friends, you are surrounded by people who understand you."

"I guess I didn't think about it like that." The realization that yes, the Mandalorians probably understood him better than the Jedi ever would rattled Vann in unexpected ways. He tried to laugh off his shock by adding, "I mean, Veela's not exactly helping me feel welcome."

"Veela has been holding the clan together since Canderous left to find us better opportunities. She's like an old tooka mother protecting her kits, ready to bite anything unexpected or dangerous." Smirking, Tagren pressed their shoulders together. "And she views you as both of those things."

As he laughed at the Mandalorian's comment, Vann realized he had a unique opportunity. Most of the individuals he interacted with knew he was Revan and saw him through the lens of their preconceived notions. Those who viewed him as hero repeatedly brushed aside his darker tendencies, while those who believed that he was irredeemably fallen saw faults in everything he did. None of it was genuine. However, Clan Ordo still thought he was a faceless mercenary and were unaware of his past or his true identity. Stripped of Revan's reputation, what did people really think of Vann? He wanted to know.

Meeting Targren's golden-brown gaze, he wondered, "You seem to like me more than Veela does. So, what do you see when you look at me? Do you think I'm dangerous?"

"Warriors are supposed to be dangerous." The Mandalorian smiled playfully as he reached over and ran a hand over the other man's bicep, his fingers gently tracing the shape even beneath the bulk of multiple layers. "But I don't think you're a threat to Clan Ordo. When I look at you, I see someone who's made a lonely life for himself. But you don't have to be alone, at least not tonight."

The last comment surprised Vann, but not as much as the pair of lips that pressed firmly against his own, the skin surprisingly warm despite the surrounding chill. His conscious mind immediately ground to a halt as fire-warmed fingers cupped his chin and combed through his hair, drawing him closer as a knee ran up the inside of his thigh before rolling gently between his legs. The pleasure that jolted through him was enough to make him gasp against Tagren's mouth, at least until his brain caught up with his body and he jerked backward in embarrassment.

Scrambling to his feet, Vann bolted a few paces away as he ineloquently stammered, "Sorry, sorry. I, er, thank you but uh… I'm not…"

Targren only chuckled before glaring playfully across the fire. "Canderous, you lied! You said he liked men."

"He does, he just doesn't like you."

"No, you're fine. It's just ah…" Circling around to his friend while attempting to maintain his composure, Vann mumbled, "Canderous, can I talk to you?"

The older Mandalorian rolled his eyes. "Targren, you couldn't have waited until you were alone to make your move? Now I'm going to be the one he's pissed at."

"We're taught that opportunism and quick thinking are important. I saw my chance and I took it. He's attractive, can you blame me?"

Vann briefly considering using the Force to drag his friend away from the fire. "Let me rephrase that. Canderous, can I talk to you right now? Preferably alone?"

Finally accepting his fate, the older Mandalorian sighed as he excused himself from the rest of the gathered warriors, suggestively squeezing his wife's thigh before he stood and trudged off into the snowy night. Vann followed close behind, his mind still reeling even after they reached a quieter part of the camp that was hidden between an icy hill and the frozen remains of what may have been a pond.

Whirling on his friend Vann demanded, "What in Sith hells was that?!"

"Tagren asked me earlier if you were interested in men, and based on some really obvious evidence I told him that you are. Look, I don't know what type of arrangement you and Carth have, but what happens among my clan will stay among my clan. Tagren is a strong warrior and I sure as hells won't think any less of you in the morning."

Staring exasperatedly, Vann nearly screamed, "Like you just said, I have Carth!"

"Tagren won't take any of this personally, but you could have just said that you have a partner instead of dragging me away to throw a tantrum. I don't know what the Republic's told you, but we respect monogamy." Exhaling heavily, Canderous's breath froze in the night air as he explained, "The way my people see it, there's no right way or a wrong way to be in a relationship so long as everyone is an adult who agrees on the terms and nobody gets hurt."

"I'm not throwing a tantrum! You've seen my tantrums, and this is nowhere close. And I pulled you aside because…" Vann's thoughts were still a chaotic mess, causing him to blurt out, "Did you know that Juhani has a girlfriend? Or that Bastila was really interested in me for a while?"

"That last part I knew. Didn't know about the Cathar, but good for her." Canderous considered the information. "Is it that Jedi… Belaya was it?"

"Of course you knew about Bastila. I think everyone on the Hawk knew but me, just like how everyone on Rakata knew about Belaya before I did because I'm apparently kriffing oblivious!"

"So?" Blinking dully, Canderous sighed. "Maybe you're just not wired to notice attraction. I mean, it took you long enough to figure Carth out. I was about two days away from holding a blaster to his head until he finally confessed…"

"What!? You mean he… before I… Nevermind. I guess that's just another thing he never kriffing told me." Pacing in irritation, Vann waved away this new information. "That's not the point. The problem is that I think I missed some cues from someone in my past. I recovered more memories back on Coruscant but I didn't think they were important. At least not until I spent the last few days replaying them while we drove past endless kilometers of snow. And now, after what just happened with Targren…"

"Vann, if this is more Force crap I am still the wrong man to talk to and this is definitely the wrong place to discuss it."

"The person from my memories was Malak!"

Canderous merely shrugged before muttering, "Look, if you used to 'practice with your lightsabers' I can't say I'm surprised, but I don't need the details."

"That's not what happened! I just think that, when we were younger, Malak was interested in me and I didn't realize it. And I can't help but wonder if that affected everything that came after. If maybe that's why it was so easy to turn us against each other and why he still won't talk to me even when I need information from the son of a kath hound."

"I don't know why you're telling me this."

Rubbing his chilled cheeks with his palms, Vann grumbled, "Because Carth won't answer honestly and you're literally the only person I know whose marriage hasn't ended in tragedy."

"Dammit." Wincing at the truth in this statement, Canderous stopped to consider the situation. "If you and Malak were Mandalorians, I'd tell you that some kath-pup crush isn't enough to ruin a friendship and the entire Republic. But having seen how you Force users work, who knows? Maybe you brought down an entire government with the sheer power of your obliviousness."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Canderous scoffed. "I told you I'm the wrong man to ask about this shit. Veela and I work so well because we were both raised to be warriors and we live our lives by the code of our people."

"Living by the code of 'my people' is probably what kriffed me up in the first pla…"

The shriek of blaster fire cut off the rest of Vann's words and he instinctively dropped to the ground as brilliant red bolts illuminated the night sky. Looking around for an explanation he reached for the pistol on his thigh, thumbing off the safety before turning to Canderous for further orders. But the other man was already racing across the camp.

"Ah, kriff." Sprinting after his friend, Vann used the packed trails made by the Basilisk to ease his movement through the snow. "Anybody know what the hells is going on!?"

"It's Clan Jendri!" someone called. "They think we know something they don't, and they're attacking!"

"Well, they're not wrong," Vann hissed through clenched teeth.

Another hail of bolts rained down on the camp, mostly centered on the partially hidden cache of weapons and ammunition. Craning his head back to locate the source, Vann ducked between some nearby tents as he aimed his pistol skyward. Through the smoke and the snow, he could just make out the shape of two Basilisk soaring overhead. Pulling the trigger in rapid succession, he fired a series of shots that he subtly guided with the Force. It would have been enough to at least weaken the shields of a similarly sized assault droid, but his attack appeared to have no effect.

"Vann, that won't do kark-all!"

Spotting Canderous beside Clan Ordo's own Basilisk, the Force user rushed over. "Well, what should I do? I'm not about to go and hide in a corner!"

A series of shouts about three meters away alerted both men to the fact that multiple Jendri warriors had breached the camp's perimeter and were attacking anything that moved. More blaster fire rained down from overhead, the red streaks cutting across the white snow.

"We can take them, we're better armed and have more droids. But we need time to prepare!" Canderous was already powering up his Basilisk. "Can you create a distraction?"

Vann glanced down at the blaster in his hands, arching a brow.

"You know what I mean!"

Sighing, Vann holstered the pistol as he mentally traced the lines of his lightsabers hidden within his jacket. "How much of a show do you want?"

"You're probably the wrong person to tell this to, but try to have some discretion."

Clenching his fists, Vann let out a growl of irritation as he turned and ran towards where most of the blaster fire seemed to be centered. Closing his eyes, he drew a slow breath and released the firm hold that he'd been maintaining on his awareness, allowing his presence to flow into the surrounding Force. Though Canderous was fairly sure that none of Clan Ordo were Force-sensitive, Vann had been careful to keep his powers tightly controlled, shielding his mind and camouflaging what he knew was his rather remarkable signature. But not anymore.

With his awareness spreading across the battlefield he could sense the anger and desperation of Clan Ordo, their emotions seeping into the Force as they fought off their rival clan. Drawing that aggression into himself, Vann felt the cold fury surge just beneath his skin until it infused him with frigid power. He knew that his eyes were gleaming a golden yellow as he tugged off his gloves, electricity sizzling across his fingertips. Focusing his gaze on a Basilisk soaring overhead he released the charge, sending a storm of electricity directly at the droid. Circuits burned and steel melted as the purple bolts struck, both machine and rider shrieking as they plummeted out of the sky.

Before his target could land Vann reached out with his mind and pulled, yanking the Mandalorian from their mount and slamming them into the frozen ground before dragging the droid down on top of them. Bone and metal crunched wetly in the snow. Behind him he could hear Clan Ordo rallying, the hot glow of their determination surging through the Force. Skidding between two warriors firing at another Basilisk, he spotted a group of Jendri warriors who were raiding one of the weapon caches. Extending a hand, he wrapped his power around the throat of one thief and squeezed, so focused that he didn't sense incoming danger until a bolt sank deep into his left shoulder. Agony ripped through him as his blood steamed in the cold air.

Whipping around to face his attacker Vann snarled, throwing one enemy Mandalorian at the other with a strong push through the Force. Even as the pair collided with a pained yelp another bolt struck him, this time grazing his thigh. Roaring in both pain and outrage, his fingers twitched as he considered drawing his concealed 'sabers. But he resisted. Canderous wanted discretion, and based on previous conversations he assumed that meant the other man didn't want anyone to think he was a Jedi. Dodging low he seethed quietly as he summoned another burst of lightning, the air around him crackling with ozone.

The second, smaller surge of electricity exploded upward, striking the chest of an enemy Basilisk and frying its gears as sparks coursed across its outer shell. The acrid scent of burning wires filled the air as Vann produced more jagged forks of Force lightning. This time he shortened the bolts, sending smaller bursts of energy into critical points along the droid's hull that he somehow knew were there. Smoke billowed across the sky as the droid began to careen wildly.

Leaping to the side, Vann narrowly avoided a piece of falling debris that crashed to the ground centimeters from where he'd been standing. But he wasn't fast enough to duck between another flurry of bolts and one dug between his ribs. He gasped wetly, landing on his back in the snow as pain clouded his vision and knocked the breath from his lungs. Forced to stare at the sky, he saw the bright burst of engines igniting as Clan Ordo's own Basilisk soared into battle, their six droids now vastly outnumbering the few that Clan Jendri had remaining. Their cannons lit up the night as they fired on the enemy combat units, quickly routing them and forcing a rapid retreat.

A cheer went up throughout the camp as the last of Clan Jendri fled into the darkness, dropping their weapons in surrender before they ran. The Force was alight with pride and joy, and Vann embraced the emotion as he pressed his hands against the fresh wounds that pierced his flesh. He sighed with relief as healing energy drifted through his palms, knitting the skin back together. "Kriffing hells…" he groaned.

The click of a blaster rifle broke through the raucous shouts that were still filling the air. "Don't move," Veela warned as she held her weapon centimeters from the supposed mercenary's face.

Holding up his hands, Vann tried to smile. It felt more like a grimace. "I can explain."

"There's not much you can say, Jedi."

"For one thing, I'm not a Jedi."

Targren appeared beside Veela, clutching an identical rifle that was also aimed at Vann. "I've never seen a Jedi throw lightning before."

"That doesn't make him any less of a threat."

An engine roared as one of Clan Ordo's Basilisk touched down a few meters away, its rider already shouting before he even dismounted. "Veela, put the damn blaster down!"

Ignoring her husband's request, the Mandalorian woman sneered. "You knew, didn't you Canderous? You brought a kriffing Jedi into our camp…"

"He's not a damn Jedi! Do you honestly think I'm dumb or suicidal enough to bring one of them here? He's a mercenary, just like he told you. He just happens to have an unusual skill set."

"I still don't want him here. If anything, he's more dangerous than any Jedi I've ever seen."

"Which is why you should be glad that he's on our side! He's the one who bought us time to mount our bes'uliik."

Vann was still laying on the ground with his hands raised. "If I wanted to hurt you or the rest of Clan Ordo, I would have. But instead, I helped you and got shot three times for my trouble."

Nodding to the crimson splattered across the snow, Targren noted, "There's definitely enough blood here for at least three bolt wounds."

"We'll reach the Twin Spears by noon tomorrow and we need Vann's information to find what we're looking for." Canderous crossed his arms as he stared at his wife. "With any luck, we'll be done by tomorrow night and then you'll never have to see his face again. So, for the good of Clan Order, let him live just one more day."

Baring her teeth in frustration, Veela jerked her blaster back as she slammed on the safety. "Fine. He can keep his life for now. But after tomorrow he better be gone." Still gripping her weapon, she marched towards where the rest of her clan was already breaking out various bottles of ale and liquor.

"Go and celebrate with the others," Canderous urged Targren. "Tonight, we celebrate our victory and tomorrow we'll complete our search."

The younger man nodded appreciatively before shouldering his rifle, glancing at Vann one last time before rushing to join the festivities.

When they were alone, Canderous hauled his friend to his feet. "Thanks for the help back there."

"Hey, we have a deal." Vann smiled at the Mandalorian as he shrugged off the appreciation. "Clan Ordo needs to recover that mask and I'll do whatever I can to help them succeed."

"And we will succeed thanks to you." Scanning the celebratory crowd, Canderous winced when his wife glared at him with unconcealed ire before turning to whisper with two other warriors. "Though, you might want to keep your head down for now. Veela's probably not the only one who's suspicious. I don't think anyone will try to hurt you, but…"

"I'll stick to the edge of camp tonight. While I'll miss the inevitable hangover that always comes from drinking with you, somehow I'll survive."

Canderous chuckled as he clapped Vann on the shoulder before turning towards the growing revelry. "It's probably a good idea to save your strength. Tomorrow will be a challenge, even for you."

"Honestly, my biggest challenge might be surviving your wife."

The wind whipping at Vann's face and threatening to tear off his hood was a hauntingly familiar nuisance as he traversed the frozen column that the Mandalorians called the First Spear. The roughly hewn path leading up the formation's side wasn't quite as sheer as it appeared from a distance, but it was still a difficult journey marked by slick trails and brittle pathways that dropped into ravines lined in jagged shards of ice. These unexpected rifts were impossible to avoid, forcing the Mandalorians to climb around the chasms by clinging to nearly invisible hand holds as they dangled precariously hundreds of meters in the air.

Vann reluctantly took point in the expedition, a position he was given thanks to his knowledge of the route. He wondered if the Mandalorians would still trust him to lead them if they knew that all of his information came from a series of disjointed dreams. At least there was no question that he'd been here before. Even when he was scrambling up nearly vertical walls of ice he never faltered, his hands and feet knowing where to find purchase even when his rational mind was filled with nothing but terror.

It was nearly four hours before the small group of Mandalorians reached a plateau about halfway up the First Spear. Vann was panting hard as he dragged himself to safety after using the Force to fortify a portion of the trail that he was fairly sure he collapsed during his last trip to Rekkiad. Bracing himself against the nearest wall he wiped a fine sheen of sweat from his forehead. His hand paused as the Force shivered around him, the familiar aura of the dark side pressing down hard enough to make his ears buzz and his breath catch in his throat. Leaning heavily against the ice he gasped as his vision faded out, replaced with the image of a door that materialized from beneath a thick layer of frost. Somehow, he knew that a domed chamber lay beyond, its contents looted aside from a single sarcophagus whose immense stone lid was cracked but intact.

Canderous appeared just as Vann's mind returned to reality. His fingers were digging divots into the frozen column while his head spun with vertigo.

"I take it from your expression that we're close?" The Mandalorian wondered in a hushed tone.

Nodding, Vann gestured to the sheet of ice that he was leaning against. "I'm pretty sure there's a door behind here. I just have too…"

"Make it quick, the others are close behind."

Straightening, Vann turned to the ice and closed his eyes, channeling the Force through his chilled fingertips. The dark side was palpable here, making the air seem even colder and sending a frigid jolt of power through his body. He drew on the sensation, directing a hard push at the layer of frost hiding the door that he knew was there. A sharp crack sounded, startling Canderous, but he ignored the other man's surprise as he sent out another pulse of energy. The cracking turned into a deafening shatter as the ice broke away in ragged chunks that crashed against the plateau, vibrating the slippery shelf and almost causing both men to lose their footing. As more shards slammed down Vann swept his hands through the air, knocking the loose pieces off the edge and down to the ground below.

Heavy footsteps announced the arrival of the rest of the party, a half dozen of Clan Ordo's best scouts and warriors. Veela was guarding the rear of the group and she scowled irritably at the show of Force strength. "What now?"

"The door was frozen over, but I fixed it."

"Good, you managed to do your job." Gesturing to Kelborn and Bralor, two of her most experienced warriors, Veela shouldered past the Force user as she approached the door. "Now get out of our way."

Throwing himself between the Mandalorians and the entrance, Vann arched a brow. "From what I can tell, this is some type of tomb. You sure that you want to go in there on your own? I'd put credits on it being full of traps."

Kelborn moved to push the Force user aside. "You spend a lot of time robbing tombs?"

"Just one, actually. But the experience stuck with me."

Gripping Kelborn's bicep to hold the other man back, Canderous turned to his wife. "Send the outsider in ahead so that he can disarm any traps. Maybe he'll blow himself up and save you the trouble."

"And what if he loots what we're here to recover? I don't trust him."

"That's why I'm going in with him." His expression softening, Canderous implored, "You trust me, don't you?"

Clenching her jaw, Veela met her husband's gaze. "I want to trust you, but…"

"Then trust me. Trust that I won't let him bring any dishonor to our clan. He goes in first and I go with him. We clear out any traps and then you can join us and help search for what we need." Glancing at the rest of his clan for approval, Canderous assured them, "With any luck, we'll be back to camp by nightfall."

"Go." Shoving her husband's shoulder, Veela gestured for Kelborn to step aside. "But I'm warning you, Canderous. If you betray us in any way, I won't hesitate to kill you. For Mand'alor."

"I wouldn't expect any less." He only grinned. "Go ahead, Vann. Get in there and check for anything nasty so that the rest of us don't have to."

Taking his cue, the Force user strode up to the door, pausing a moment to examine it before using his powers to slide the ancient stone aside. The gears produced a blood-curdling shriek as they unfroze. When the inner chamber was fully revealed Vann peered into the darkness before taking a few cautious steps inside, one hand hovering over his blaster as the other lingered near his concealed lightsabers. Canderous was close behind and the pair entered the tomb together, their footsteps echoing off the high ceiling as they breathed in the surprisingly warm but stagnant air.

"So, are there really any traps?"

Vann frowned as he considered the question. "I'm pretty sure that I cleared out everything the tomb builders left behind." As he moved forward, he felt something click under his right foot. He winced. "But I may have left behind a few of my own…"

The scream of turret-mounted cannons spurred Vann to action as a warning of danger shivered down his spine. He dove to his left, grabbing Canderous's arm and dragging the other man with him. They landed in an uncoordinated heap, covering their heads as the room filled with the brilliant flash of bright red bolts.

"I respect the hells out of Revan, but sometimes I kriffing hate the bastard!"

"I couldn't agree more!" Rolling into a crouch, Vann drew his lightsabers as he gestured for his friend to stay back. "I'll try to disable the defense system. Shout if you see anything else!"

Leaping into the open before Canderous could protest, Vann ignited his weapons with a snap-hiss of burning plasma. It still seemed strange for the blades to shine different colors, though the blue glow of the lightsaber in his off-hand was comfortingly familiar. Dropping into a defensive stance he blocked a series of turret shots coming from overhead before launching into a Force-enhanced jump and taking out the cannon on the ceiling with a hard chop from his main 'saber. Bolts were still ricocheting in every direction and he cursed, ducking down as debris began to rain through the air.

"These turrets have some type of targeting system!" Canderous warned. "Which is kind of brilliant if you ignore the fact that it's going to get us killed!"

"I'm handling it!" Adjusting the lightsaber in his off-hand, Vann flipped backward and deflected some of the bolts away from the Mandalorian, purposely drawing the fire as he tried to locate the source of the shooting. It took a moment for him to notice a turret hidden just behind the huge sarcophagus in the center of the room. Hugging the wall, he raced around the room's perimeter and released a bolt of lightning when he was about a meter from his target. It arced over the stonework before striking the firing system, destroying it in a shower of sparks.

Just as Vann was starting to relax a burning pain exploded through his abdomen and he doubled over with a grunt, bringing his main lightsaber up to defend himself as he stumbled backward. But before he could locate the third turret he heard four rapid shots followed by an explosion about two meters from the tomb's door.

Canderous blew the smoke away from the muzzle of his repeating rifle, chuckling. "You missed one."

"Kriff you," Vann grumbled as he slid down the wall. "Is that all of them?"

"You tell me."

Looking around, Vann noted the silence that had descended through the tomb, the door now closed and the turrets apparently destroyed. "It looks like the defense system is down, but knowing me I probably trapped the sarcophagus."

"You're a neurotic bastard, I'll give you that much."

"And I'll take that as a compliment." Drawing a shaky breath Vann fumbled for a stimpack, injecting it into his thigh before limping towards the hulking stone shape that took up the center of the room. Extending his awareness, he probed the object and searched for any sign of further danger only to find nothing but the familiar chill of the dark side seeping out from beneath the cracked lid. Running his fingers along the rim he felt for suspicious pressure points or any other mechanical interference. But there was nothing unusual, which was even more worrisome.

Striding closer, Canderous continued to hold his blaster. "Find anything?"

"No. I think the trap is whatever's inside."

Aiming his rifle at the sarcophagus, Canderous wondered, "And what exactly is in there?"

Vann shrugged as he summoned the Force, finding it easy with the amount of dark energy that was infusing the room. "We're about to find out."

The lid was shockingly heavy, carved from a single piece of solid stone that was pure black in color and decorated with ancient glyphs partially worn away by time but still ominous in appearance. Sweat beaded across Vann's forehead and dripped down his back as he grunted from the strain. Canderous glanced at him worriedly but he refused to acknowledge the concern, entirely focused on revealing whatever he'd hidden in his past life.

The lid slid out of place a single centimeter at a time with the harsh grind of stone being forced to move after years of inactivity. It was an arduous process and beneath his layers, Vann was soaked from exertion. But eventually the cover was pushed far enough back to see inside of the even larger base, and he ignited his main saber to investigate. Holding his breath, he expected to find a decomposed body within, preserved by the cold but still twisted by time and the embalming process.

But there were only two things within the sarcophagus and neither one was organic. The first was a mask, bronze in color and surprisingly simple in its design considering the power that it represented. The second was a datapad that had long-since turned off from a lack of power.

"I found your mask," Vann called, even as he reached for the pad. It was a more rugged model, clearly designed for use in rough environments. Judging by its appearance it had seen heavy use as the outer casing was heavily scratched in several places and one corner was irreparably dented. Lifting it up, he noted that the back was etched with the symbol of what he now recognized as the Republic Mercy Corps.

An instant later Vann was assaulted by visions of the world that had haunted his nightmares for months. He saw himself, less a Jedi and more the mercenary he became, join by a still-whole Malak as they walked beneath a sky illuminated by lightning storms. Even within the memory, he could feel the raw strength of the dark side flowing through every millimeter of this planet, all of it coalescing behind a pair of shrewd yellow eyes that were watching him and waiting. A name floated through his mind, Dromund Kaas.

"…okay? Hello? Hey, snap out of it!"

Startled out of his memory by the snapping of Canderous's fingers, Vann blink as he looked around. "I'm fine," he muttered unconvincingly.

"Sure you are." The Mandalorian was already clutching the mask to his chest, cradling it protectively as he stared down at it with awe. "But even if you're not, I owe you a debt of gratitude. This is an item that I never believed would be returned to my people in my lifetime. I honestly don't know how I can repay you."

"Simple," Vann replied, still breathless. "Keep the mask for yourself. Take it and become the new Mandalore."

"You're shitting me, right? I could never…"

"Why the hells not? Back before you knew I was Revan you told me that you'd been trying to reunite your scattered clans. And on Coruscant you said that you might have succeeded if you had the mask." Nodding firmly, Vann gestured to the item. "And now it's yours."

"Look, I don't expect you to understand how this works. But there's no compelling reason that I should become the new Mand'alor!"

"You're right, I don't understand. Because from where I'm standing, you're the only person for the job. I've seen how much Clan Ordo adores you, and even more importantly how much they respect you. And the fact that you saved not one but six Basilisk despite the Republic's orders to destroy them shows how far you'll go to preserve your culture."

"If you're expecting me to turn the clans into the Republic's pets or your personal army, you're going to be unpleasantly surprised." Grimacing at the thought, Canderous snarled, "I'll serve you until my dying breath, but I'll never force my people to contribute to your government. I may be a beaten old warrior, but I still have some honor left."

"You're one of the greatest warrior's I've ever met and I know that you'll fight to do what's right for the Mandalorians." Sighing, Vann crept closer to his friend, his voice growing gentler. "The only reason I agreed to come on this trip was because I planned to find the mask and give it to you. I want you to become the next Mandalore because you're the only person capable of protecting your people from the threat that I've been sensing. The Sith Emperor took advantage of the Mandalorians' honor and twisted it for his own gain. But I know that you won't let it happen again."

"Vann…"

"Take the damn mask, Canderous! Protect your kriffing people so that I can protect everyone else. With you leading the Mandalorians and Carth plus Bastila guiding the Republic, I'm free to…" Trailing off, he winced slightly as he realized what he had to do next.

Canderous's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You're planning something, aren't you?"

"Yes Revan, what are you planning?"

Both men whirled towards the tomb's entrance, drawing their weapons on reflex as a figure stalked towards them, her silhouette illuminated by a sliver of light filtering through the doorway.

"Veela?" Vann blinked back his surprise as he subtly slipped his lightsabers behind his back. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh shut up! How stupid do you think I am? You don't train as many children as I have without learning to see through lies." The woman leveled her blaster at the Force user. "It was obvious from the beginning that you're more than you seem. The average mercenary doesn't move like you do and they sure as hells don't know how to fix a bes'uliik."

"What are you trying to say?" Still aiming his own weapon, Canderous's tone was deadly calm.

"I know that you did some type of work for the Republic a little over a year back, husband. You didn't come out and say it, but I know you well enough to read the little clues in your messages. I suspected that you had something to do with whatever brought Malak down and returned Revan to his people. And now you just happened to bring us a Force user who throws lightning and somehow knows exactly where the Revanchist hid our mask."

"You're good," Vann quietly admitted. "But I'm not Revan."

"Bantha shit! I saw how you fought last night, even without your lightsabers. I've only witnessed one man who could walk away from wounds like that. You are Revan."

"Alright, maybe I should explain this a little better." His brow wrinkling in contemplation, Vann struggled to find the right words. "I used to be Revan, but now I'm… I honestly don't know who I am anymore. Mostly a mercenary and sometimes a Republic puppet. It's complicated."

"Oh, I heard about your supposed memory loss. It's a shame, there were some questions that I wanted to ask you before I put a bolt through your brain." Veela's finger twitched over her blaster's trigger. "But I guess I'll just have to be satisfied knowing that you're dead."

Canderous moved with surprising swiftness for a Human his size, placing his larger frame between Vann and his wife as he trained his sight on the woman he loved. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you kill this man. I owe him a greater debt than you'll ever understand and I'm honor-bound to serve him."

"Just as I'm bound by honor to destroy him." Anger and sorrow colored the Force, hanging thick in the air. "I suppose this is where our paths separate."

"No!" Igniting both of his lightsabers with a twitch of his thumbs, Vann ran forward with a burst of Force-enhanced speed until he was standing in the middle of the Mandalorian couple. Pointing a blade at each of them, he warned, "I'm not going to let you kill each other over me. Especially not when the fate of your people is literally resting on that mask."

Veela's eyes went wide when she finally spotted the glint of bronze that was now tucked beneath her husband's arm. "You admit that you found the mask? That's brave of you, Revan. But just know that even if I don't get out of here alive, the rest of Clan Ordo will keep searching for wherever you hide it next."

"I'm not hiding it, I'm giving it to Canderous so that he can become the new Mandalore!"

Canderous snorted. "He keeps trying to at any rate."

"…What?"

"The entire story is too complicated to explain, but let's just say that the Mandalorians were convinced to go to war under false pretenses." Noting Veela's obvious doubt, Vann hurriedly added, "There's something out there, at the edges of known space, that wants to take over not just the Republic but the entire galaxy. He tried to use your people to do it, but he failed."

"He failed because you defeated us," Canderous noted, as though that fact wasn't known by everyone in the room.

"Yes. But he's not giving up. I know he's coming back, and the Mandalorians need a leader who is strong enough to stand up to this thing when it comes. And I think the only person who can do that is Canderous."

Though she lowered her blaster a few millimeters, Veela's expression remained stern. "You truly believe that Canderous should be the next Mandalore?"

"Yes, probably for the same reasons that you love him. He's an unparalleled warrior, but he also has wisdom and honor. He'll restore your people's place in the galaxy, and he'll do it without being so arrogant that he makes a deal with a kriffing Sith just to chase glory by undertaking another war that you can't possibly win."

"Who are you to say what battles we can and cannot win?"

"The guy who kicked all of your asses last time, including Mandalore the Ultimate's. I beat him in single combat and took his mask, as was my right as the victor." Gradually moving his lightsabers into a more relaxed position, Vann jerked his head towards Canderous. "And now I'm giving the mask to your husband. Convince him to take the kriffing thing and lead your people, and you won't ever have to see me again."

Astonishment colored Veela's tone. "You'll go? Without a fight?"

"Provided that Canderous becomes the next Mandalore. Trust me when I say that I have other things to do."

"Canderous, you already know that I can't think of a single warrior who deserves this more than you." There was a certain weariness to Veela's tone, as though this particular conversation had been repeated numerous times before. "Even when the clans scattered, even when our daughter left, you never gave up hope that our people would be reunited beneath a new Mand'alor and that we could rise to our former glory. And now you've been given a gift. Don't dishonor your clan by refusing it."

Vann nodded in agreement. "Take the damn mask already."

"Fine." Flicking his rifle's safety on, Canderous swung the weapon onto his shoulder before retrieving the mask. He started at it for a long moment before quietly murmuring, "I accept this and all of the burdens and responsibilities that come with it."

"Good, because there's going to be a lot." Now it was Vann who sounded weary. "Trust me, I know."

Unlike her husband, Veela was still holding her rifle. "And now Revan, it's time for you to leave and to never meddle in Mandalorian affairs again."

"That's my plan." Powering down both lightsabers, Vann returned them to their hiding spots before retrieving the datapad he'd dropped inside the sarcophagus. "If it'll be easier for Canderous, I'll stay in here for a while so that your clan can discuss things without the distraction of an outsider. Go back to your camp without me, I'll make my own way back to my ship."

Veela nodded curtly, casting a last suspicious glance over her shoulder as she moved towards the door, rapping twice as a signal for the warriors outside to drag it fully open. Now that the ice was cleared from the mechanisms it was surprisingly quiet, which explained why neither Vann nor Canderous heard her earlier enter.

When his wife gestured for the new Mand'alor to follow, he held up one hand. "Give me a moment. Tell the others I'll be out in a minute." Only when he received a reluctant sigh of acknowledgment did he relax, lapsing into silence for a few long seconds as the door slammed shut once again. "Vann, I… Thank you."

"Hey, there's no need for that. You have your duty and I have mine. But, uh, can you do me one last favor?"

Canderous frowned as he marched towards the exit. "I'm almost afraid to ask."

"It's nothing dangerous. I just need you to deliver something for me in about a month. Longer if you need it, but not any sooner." Seeing his friend's incredulous expression, Vann quickly clarified, "It's a message for Carth and the others at the Rakata Prime base. You can use encrypted channels to send it, I don't care."

"Sure, I can do that. Anything else?"

Considering the question, Vann swallowed hard. "Don't watch it. That… That's an order."

"Alright." Despite the doubt that tugged at his mouth, Canderous nodded in agreement. "Get me the message before you leave and I'll make sure it reaches Carth in about a month."

"Thank you, Canderous." Vann couldn't help but smirk as he added, "And good luck because you're going to need it."

"Hey, Carth. If you're viewing this message you've already figured out that I'm not coming back from my trip. I know I promised that I'd come home safe, but you should know by now that I can't make promises like that." Blinking heavily, Vann scrubbed one palm over his face. "I'm still mad at you for not telling me about Malachor Five, but… I guess it doesn't really matter that much anymore. It's just another part of my past that I kriffed up. But at least I know what I have to do to fix things. But I also realized that I have to do it alone. Where I'm going is dangerous, too dangerous to take anyone with me.

"Tell Bastila that I'm sorry. Oh, and tell her not to look for me using our bond. I'm closing my end so she won't be able to sense me or what I'm doing even if she's nearby. Make sure that she knows that I'm proud of everything she's accomplished. I saw how hard leaving the Jedi Order was for her. But she did the right thing, and I'm honored to have been her master.

"As for everyone else at the enclave, especially Juhani and Jolee and even Dustil, tell them to keep studying. I don't think I'll ever fully understand the Force, either the light or the dark side, but maybe they will. I do know that there's so much more to it than the teachings of the Jedi and the Sith, and that worrying too much about either side is pointless. The galaxy isn't all light or all dark, it's a mixture of both and yet… it's neither.

"If you talk to Mission or Zaalbar, let them know that I'm thinking of them. They're both doing good work, even if some of it is highly classified."

Heaving a shuddering breath, Vann wiped the heel of one hand across his eyes. He hoped that they were currently brown. "And as for you… Like I said, I'm still angry about Malachor. But I also understand why you didn't tell me. Maybe I wasn't ready to know and maybe I never will be. Either way, you kept that information from me because you wanted to protect me, because you love me and… sometimes I'm not entirely sure that I deserve you. I mean, you're the brave Republic soldier and I'm just some kriffed-up Outer Rim mercenary who got lucky and saved the day a couple of times.

"I'm sorry I can't be the man that everyone wants me to be. I think he's gone and I don't think he's coming back. But maybe I can finally be the hero that everyone deserves. It's funny… a Jedi won the Mandalorian Wars but some no-name scum might be the one who saves the galaxy.

"Keep the Republic safe for me, Carth. And don't give up on life because I'm not around. I'm doing my job, so you have to do yours. But if things get too hard, just remember that I love you. In fact, I think I've loved you since back on Taris when you yelled at me for threatening Gadon Thek. That was the moment I realized that you were the light through all of my darkness."

Swallowing harshly, Vann pressed his knuckles to his mouth. "I love you, Carth. And I'm sorry."

Author's Notes

Thank you for reading. Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated!

You can find me on Twitter (ergo_maria) and Tumblr (ergomaria).

1. Again, I've taken some liberties with Mandalorian culture. I tried to keep them close to canon while adding a few details to enhance what was presented in the games. One of the features of Mandalorians in this universe is their inclusivity towards all forms of queerness and open relationships.

2. No Light without Shadows established that Vann can speak Mando'a, but his accent is terrible.

3. Vann's awkwardness strikes again. Those who follow me on Tumblr may have seen the original draft of the Targren scene, which was obviously changed quite a bit before this final version. I'm just glad I was able to include it!

4. As a reminder, Vann has something resembling a berserker ability (similar to the Sith Marauder's 'Fury') that lets him do massive damage and ignore most pain, at least temporarily.

5. I debated whether or not to include Vann's message to Carth. Hopefully, this version lives up to what readers have imagined.