AN: Hey, everyone! CaptainCakeless117 back with another chapter of The Legend Reborn! I apologize for my increase in absences, but adjusting to back into the school schedule hasn't been the most seamless transition. But, I've finally conjured the will to work on some writing. So, I hope you all enjoy it!
Muunilinst
Revan stood silently as a slight grin invaded him, he kept his attention on the small hologram of Zeego, keeping watch of Plagueis out of the corner of his eye, "The Jedi Temple? What have you found out about it?"
"We're heading there now," Zeego responded with as much clarity as the device would allow, "These twi'leks sure know their way around. Dooku's more interested in the locals."
Revan let out a chuckle, "You mean the ones that want to get a taste of him?"
"Yup, those are them." Zeego went to say something, but he was cut off by what Revan could only make out as indistinct chatter with one of their guides.
Revan had a feeling where this was going. He needed that Temple, and the Kalikori settlement could prove invaluable. Kalikori could provide labor of the kind droids couldn't until the days of expansion would begin. But he would need a solution, Tython was perfect for anonymity, but that wasn't a viable course of action in the long run. Regardless, the Temple would be perfect to train the Force-Users in his society, however he couldn't transport everyone and expect to remain a secret. He would need to find somewhere else to plant his center of government. Somewhere remote enough to avoid unwanted eyes, but still influential enough to make a difference.
Zeego broke his train of thought, "We're coming up on the Temple now, I can see it. It's crazy, you need to see this Rev."
Revan smiled, Zeego used a nickname, he's becoming comfortable with everything, "I'll be there in a few days... has HK checked in yet?"
"He sent an automated transmission, he's en route now." Zeego replied, pausing ever so often as he maneuvered around the dense Tythonian foliage.
Revan nodded, "Send Dooku back to the Star Forge when you're done visiting the Temple. I'm bringing a... new friend home. Thought Dooku would want to meet him."
Zeego grinned, "Sounds good to me. I'll see you soon. We'll keep you updated."
"Stay safe out there." Revan cut the transmission before turning to Plagueis, "Just remember. They don't know you're coming back with me, so we might not get much of a warm welcome."
Plagueis gave him a disbelieving look for a moment, "You do realize I haven't had a warm welcome in over ten years, right?"
Revan let out an embarrassed chuckle and began rubbing his shoulder, "Oh, right... I forgot about that," he pulled out his datapad and sent the encrypted extraction encoding to the HK-51 unit, telling him to bring the speeder back. He gazed at Plagueis for a moment, "So what happens when I start bringing Jedi to Tython? You won't be a problem, right?"
"I won't cause any grief," The Muun Sith Lord assured. "My desire to fulfill my revenge against Sidious trumps any method you may use to make it happen, even if it means allying myself with Jedi. Besides, I would be lying if I were to tell you I hadn't study the light side to a degree."
Revan raised an eyebrow. "Is that a fact?"
"Yes, although I studied it to satisfy my scientific curiosity more than because I truly believed in its teachings," Plagueis claimed. "You were right in your teachings Revan; one can't study one view and truly understand the Force. It's more than just light and dark." Plagueis stated. "In the interest of full disclosure, however, I will let you know that since I believe you need to understand your enemies in order to overcome them, studying the Light side was necessary if I wanted to know how to best destroy the Jedi."
Revan stared at Plaguies with critical analysis for a long moment before opening his mouth again. "Then why I should I trust you not to attempt to destroy my Revanchist Jedi Order one day?"
The Muun's bright yellow eyes met Revan's gaze head on. "Because whether or not you believe it Revan, I think the two of us are kindred spirits in the sense I was always a unique bred of Sith, while you were always a unique bred of Jedi. I may be far more attracted to the Dark side of the Force than you are now, but unlike my predecessors I sought different approaches to the Force and ways to fulfill our Grand Plan that they would have considered blasphemous. I may use mystical powers, but I have always been a researcher at heart and thrived in situations where I can properly exploit my scientific methodology to solve an issue. The average Jedi and the Sith tend to ignore that in their belief the Force is something that can never be understood with a scientifically-oriented approach. That's why I always stood out among my predecessors and why I managed to further the growth of the seeds of the Grand Plan."
Plagueis paused for a moment to collect his thoughts and stared at the time traveler before him. "I don't think I need to explain to you that you are a unique breed of Jedi. I am sure you figured that out already. But I will say this: Sidious may succeed in defeating the Jedi Order soon but energy is never truly destroyed, only transformed. The great deeds you have accomplished Revan both in the Force and the battlefield are the stuff of legends and I am sure that with you at the helm, the Jedi Order will rise from the ashes of destruction and transform into your ultimate vision of Force Unification. The Jedi Order has declined and stagnated in the last millennium. But you Revan, you can breathe new life into the Jedi Order. You can transform them with your teachings into an inexorable tidal wave of the Force in its primordial form. You can direct it's might against my treacherous apprentice and then reform Galactic Government to lead it to the brightest Golden age in history. And that, my friend, is a Jedi Order I can gladly work with."
Revan remained silent as he pondered the words of the one-of-a-kind Sith Lord. He then offered his hand and the Munn eagerly shook it, sealing the partnership that will make the Galaxy tremble at its very core.
Telos IV - Citadel Station
Divesius let out a low grunt. He stood with his back to the hangar, examining the various carbon scoring that littered the hall. The TSF had quarantined this sector of the Docking Bay, he had gone over the briefing several times, as well as Obi-Wan's report. He drifted his attention toward the closest scorch marks to his left, clearly left behind some kind of blaster rifle. It must have been countered by a lightsaber, considering Obi-Wan's positioning during the fight.
Sira paced back and forth behind him, letting out a low sigh, she turned to her master.
"You know, when you said we we're gonna go looking for the Ebon Hawk, I expected it to be a bit more exciting than this..."
Divesius didn't break his focus on the durasteel wall, "Can't start looking unless we know where to start. Until the ship pops up again, this is pretty much what our job is going to be, revisiting things we already know..."
"So we're gonna be staring at kriffing blast points all day long?" Sira questioned, a slight annoyance in her voice.
"Patience, Sira. The Force will guide us. We'll find the ship before long." Divesius assured. He went to continue that line of thought, but something interrupted him; a presence. He watched as the furthest hangar door opened, a small squad of republic troops walking through the corridor bearing their battle tested Phase II plastoid armor, Sergeant Dex made his way to the front of them, Divesius found he could pick the experienced soldier out immediately. The troops may have looked identical, but they each had a distinct impression on the Force.
Dex sought respect. He wanted to show he could do the job, do it well, and without question. But he still had that child-like desire for attention that all clones had. A side effect of the rapid-aging process, aging just over twice as fast as the average human. Divesius felt horrible for them, what they had been through. But he made a point not to get attached to his men, knowing the Republic viewed them as expendable, and they might not make home tomorrow. That was the worst part. Knowing that the only ones who would mourn a clone trooper when he was gone were his brothers, and maybe, just maybe his commanding officer.
Dex came to a stop, his brothers mimicking his every move, each saluted and Divesius recognized the gold and red emblem across their breastplate that marked them as the Sunsinger Division; a group of highly trained soldiers bred specifically to aid the Jedi in purely internal affairs. These men were among the few non-Force Sensitives to ever step foot within the Jedi Temple.
"Sergeant. Good to see you again." Divesius greeted.
"Likewise, General. It feels like Dagory Minor was decades ago." Dex replied, his stance becoming more casual, showing his preference to working under Divesius.
"You haven't been properly introduced, have you?" Divesius asked before motioning to Sira-Talis, "This is my padawan: Sira-Talis Harrion."
Dex focused on her, or so it seemed. It was impossible to tell where they were actually looking under those helmets, "Pleasure to meet you, Commander. Sergeant Dex at your service."
"Commander...?" Sira commented inquisitively
"GAR standard operating procedure, ma'am. All Jedi serving in the War are Officers, Padawans are commanders. Knights and Masters are Generals."
"But I'm not serving in the war."
"Correct, but you are operating with a squad of the Republic's Finest," Dex boasted. "Therefore, you are an Officer within the Grand Army of the Republic."
"Sergeant, what have you been informed off?" Divesius interjected.
"We're mostly in the dark sir. All we were told was that this was a purely Jedi affair. General Zey chose to leave the level of discretion to you."
Divesius sighed.
I'll never understand why Zey puts everyone in this position.
He gazed at Sira for a moment, "Sira? Ask around the Shuttle Bay. See if there's anyone here who saw what happened while I give Dex a short run through of what went down."
Sira bowed her head obediently before moving toward the other end of the Shuttle Bay.
Dex shook his head, "She's so orderly, obedient. You realize what kind of effect the war is going have on her?"
"That's what worries me. I've seen this war do terrible things to good friends. Did you hear about the incident with Krell a few months back? He was a good man once, respectable." Divesius reminisced.
"I met a Jedi on Qiilura maybe two or three months ago. General Tur-Mukan, being there so long changed her."
"Which is why I'm trying to keep her away from it as best I can."
Sira turned the corner into the large foyer, scanning the occupants. She picked out a human female, she couldn't be more than thirty standard years.
"Excuse me miss," Sira called out, "could I speak to you for a moment?"
She gave Sira a confused look, stood slowly from her seat and followed the young Iridonian into the corridor, not noticing the lightsaber hanging from her belt, but feeling the eyes of everyone waiting for a shuttle following her.
"Uh, do I know you or something?" she asked.
Sira crossed her arms, "Trust me, you don't. This is the first time I've left Coruscant in fifteen years. Maybe more. I just wanted to ask you about the standoff that happened recently."
The woman laughed, "Little young for a Cop, aren't you?"
"No ma'am. I'm not an Officer. I'm a Jedi, well not yet. I'm still a Padawan."
Her expression changed from slightly amused, to stern, "I don't need to tell you anything."
Sira tilted her head, "So you don't have anything to tell us?"
"I do," she paused, "But I'll talk with TSF instead."
"This is a Jedi affair miss. The TSF have no Jurisdiction."
"Shove it. I'm not talking with some Jedi schutta!" she declared.
"Did I say something?" Sira asked, genuine confusion in her voice.
"Will you stop?" The woman asked, "Just stop. Go back to your Temple. The galaxy would be better off without you cultists!"
"The Jedi have done nothing but good for the Galaxy! We fight for peace." Sira defended.
"No. You fight for control. You're a bunch of self-absorbed elitists. You preach freedom for all, but you contradict it in probably the biggest way possible! Look around at what's happening. You own a slave army. That's all the clones are to you! They're slaves. Lap dogs to do your bidding. Did you ask if they wanted to fight? No, you took control without question. All of the suffering in the Galaxy? You haven't done a single thing to stop it. People die every day. People that might live, if the Jedi actually did something about it. Get away from me." she stormed off.
Sira stood, completely shocked. Is that really what people think of us? No, it can't be. My training says otherwise. The Jedi Council does what's best for everyone. But, if they did then those people wouldn't die every day, would they? Is she right? Have we really fallen that far? Have I been lied to all this time? No. No! Dammit Sira. Pull yourself together.
She walked back into the Foyer, the woman was gone but now everyone else was giving Sira a look that emanated disgust. Some left and took the turbolift back to the Entertainment Module. Others ignored her, or yelled at her. "Shove it!" "Leave us alone!" and "Go back to your kriffing Temple" were the most common. She was the odd one out now. And still not understanding why everyone acted as they did.
She turned and made her way back to Divesius and the others, trying to make up her mind about everything she had just heard. She still couldn't understand why everyone said what they said. She hadn't done anything to them. She could've been the first Jedi they had ever seen. How could they judge something they had never known?
She rejoined the others, Divesius was speaking to Master Windu on a holocommunicator. One of the clones approached her.
"Find anything Commander?"
"Sadly no," Sira said awkwardly, "I guess everything we have already is what we're stuck with." She tried to seem as professional as she could, attempting to fit in with the somewhat intimidating troopers.
Divesius walked over, "Alright everyone. Time to pack up, we're moving on. The Ebon Hawk's been sighted docking at Muunilinst. Sira, go with Sergeant Dex. I'll be there soon."
Hyperspace - en route to Tython
HK-47 double checked Spar's restraints, making the sure the Mandalorian hadn't slipped them. His people were crafty, HK had learned that the hard way a long, long time ago. He wasn't taking any chances anymore. He reached for a blaster pistol, but his fingers proved unresponsive, refusing to wrap around it. He reached for the fusion cutter with his other hand, and went to work repairing himself, opening a repair kit and replacing the stripped filaments and cracked servos.
"Why are you taking me? Did the Hutts put a kriffing bounty on me?"
"Declaration: I took you because my Master ordered it. Addition: If the Hutts placed a bounty on your head, I am unaware, even if they had I do not have an interest in collecting."
"Why? You're Master doesn't like credits or something?"
"Statement: My master has no need for such a trivial sum as the Hutts would offer."
Spar entered a coughing fit, spewing small specks of blood on his ship's floor. He winced in pain, he could tell at least one of his ribs were cracked. He struggled against the binders around his wrists. This droid seemed to know a thing or two about fighting. More than any ARC Spar had met, aside from maybe the Nulls. He had no chance of getting out of this. Not on the ship at least, even if the droid was busy itself, its reflexes were exceptional for a model of its obvious age.
HK flexed his hand, testing the small, yet necessary replacements. They moved fluently together. He relaxed the grip, he moved his focus around the ship, inspecting the few things Spar owned. He reached for the blaster rifle leaning against the wall.
"Order: Tell me, Mandalorian. What do you know of Revan?"
Spar hesitated, the droid was working some kind of angle, but he couldn't figure out what that was. His only hope was to play along, "You mean the Butcher? I know the name and his role in Mandalorian history only. Nothing else."
"Query: Do you respect him?"
Spar gave him a look of uncertainty. This droid was clearly working some angle, but none of the pieces added up. No bounty on him? Then why was he taken? Did its so-called "Master" just have some sick desire thing going on? And Revan, what did he have to do with everything?
Spar stuttered for a moment before taking a breath, "No point having any respect for a skeleton."
HK didn't respond, he simply studied Spar's facial features, learning each and every detail that separated him from other clones. The navicomputer chimed in, the autopilot shut down the hyperdrive, the ship shuttered as it exited lightspeed. Spar tried raising his head to see out of the durasteel viewport. HK grabbed his head and smashed it against the bulkhead, Spar felt a jolt of pain and let out a shriek of pain before blacking out.
"Declaration: You aren't allowed to know, not yet. Addition: It's too soon."
LAAT/i Gunship - Munnilinst Skyhook
Dex inserted a fresh powercell into his sidearm and holstered it. He raised a finger to his helmet comm, switching to the external channel. Making his way across the hold, he gave each of his brothers a pat on the shoulder before pounding himself on the chest; a squad routine that grown to mean more and more each day. It gave them identity, they were individuals, but meshed together perfectly. Each of them making up a part of a whole person. Sira found them fascinating, working together perfectly, seeming to know each other's roles without need to communicate. When Dex took a moment with each of his men, he exchanged some bit of dialogue with them. But she couldn't make out what, it was too indistinct, and the small bits she did catch. Well, they sounded foreign, but Sira couldn't make out the language. He came up to a private standing between Sira and Divesius and made the same gesture.
Dex nodded, "Tion'ad hukaat'kama?"
The private hesitated, "Vik."
"Dex paused for a second, "K'oyacyi."
Divesius tapped Sira's soldier, "I can tell you're confused. It's Mando'a. The spoken language of the Mandalorians. When they were being raised on Kamino, they had a Mandalorian training sergeant. He raised them as he would Mandalorians, they kind of took it from there. The tap on the shoulder is a family gesture; it shows the leader's concern for his men, pounding himself on the chest? It's to show that he cares about his men. He asks them 'Who's watching your back?' when they answer, he gives them one more order, it means 'Stay alive.' they've been doing it since Geonosis."
"Why?"
"Because, it gives them identity. They're family; brothers. They want to look out for each other, after all. All they have is each other." Divesius explained.
"So they didn't have a choice? They had to fight?"
"They were bred for war, it's in their blood. But, if you pay close attention, you can sense it. It's not what any of them really want. They just want to be normal; accepted. Have a life."
"Will they get that when the War is over?" Sira asked. She wanted to know, NEEDED to know that these men went free when it was over.
"No, probably not."
"Won't we do something to free them? It's our duty after all, isn't it?"
"It's not our say. The Army belongs to the Senate, we can't do anything."
"Why not?" Sira questioned.
"Because the Senate won't allow it! Believe me, if I had a choice, each and every one of these men would be living a life on Coruscant."
Dex interrupted them, "Sirs, the local authorities have transferred priority codes. We have paramilitary authority, the hangar holding the Ebon Hawk has had the MagCon field sealed."
"Excellent." Divesius paused as he stepped out of the troop compartment into the station, "Alright. I want the Ebon Hawk squared off, spread out around the Hangar, we'll wait for our rogue friend.
Dex and his Squad took a patrol formation, rifles raised to point at a forty-five degree angle, they broke up into a two-by four line, each man looked at their partner, and they would watch each other's backs, give their lives if it came to that. Divesius and Sira stayed a few paces behind, letting them look the part of soldiers.
Sira tried to keep her eyes forward, but she could sense all eyes on her, on the clones. She sensed much resentment, disgust. But what she felt most was disappointment. The passers-by felt abandoned, left behind to rot while the Jedi advanced their own goals. Sira felt her own mood sink, she could feel the doubt setting in. What was she thinking? During this one mission; just over the course of a week. She had learned what people thought of the Jedi. That they weren't the prominent heroes she had grown up picturing. But instead, people thought of them as a cult of self-absorbed elitists looking to further their own goals. And that raised too many questions. Were they right? Were the Jedi really as bad as everyone claimed, or was the war taking its toll? She feared they were right, that the Jedi weren't the heroes in this war.
Sira's deep thought made her lose focus, she walked into the line of troopers, hurting her head on the thick plastoid armor of the Private she had heard Dex speaking to. She immediately took a step back, the soldier didn't seem fazed.
"I'm sorry! Really, I didn't mean to."
He didn't respond, but she could see his head bobbing, he must've been using the in-helmet channel with his squad. Sira looked around, they had stopped at a hangar, and the doors were sealed. Dex and his men took up positions along the door, Divesius stood perfectly still, hands on his belt and lightsaber within reach.
The experienced Jedi gave Dex a nod, who then proceeded to unlock the hangar doors. Sira stood behind Divesius, following his lead and waited for the doors to finish parting. She noticed a pair of men standing in front of the ship; a human and a Muun. Both were wearing dark robes, the sharpest shade of black Sira had ever seen, though the later of the two encompassed a large cloak, dragging on the floor. They turned to face Divesius, a look of confusion on the human's face.
Divesius strode into the room, Dex's squad followed with Sira, taking positions at Divesius' left and right. Once again she followed her Master's lead and drew her lightsaber, the pale blue blade humming to life.
Divesius spoke with the authority of a thousand men, "By the order of the Jedi High Council, under the authority of the Galactic Senate of the Republic, you are under arrest."
The muun let out a chuckle, "Oh! This is truly fantastic, they actually think they can take us in."
Revan smiled slightly, "Well. Guess I should've been more careful. But, past is the past. Lesson learned and all that garbage."
Both men pulled out their lightsabers, but not igniting them. They wouldn't back down. And just from the way they carried themselves, Sira could sense they were truly experienced combatants. The human carried his share of scars, he didn't hide it. There was no darkness in him, yet there was no light either. The Muun however, was a different story. He emanated nothing but hatred, pure darkness. What she sensed from him, it was like a black hole of continuing power, constantly growing. Constantly hungering. It was overwhelming, intimidating. This muun - no, this monster - was the epitome of Dark side power, she could sense that much. She took a second and gazed at her master, then Dex. His holocomm went off, he pulled it out. It must've been a priority call for him to answer. A hooded figure formed in the hologram, she figured it was probably Master Windu, or Master Kenobi. She focused on the call, only able to hear a short four words.
"Execute Order Sixty-Six"
AN: And so Chapter 12 has come to an end, we're almost there everyone, Part One is nearly complete. Until Chapter 13 (which I promise will arrive soon, as I have cleared my schedule for some much-needed writing), I look forward to your opinion, feel free to contact me about anything regarding the story!
-CaptainCakeless117