Author's Note: Good day to you. And welcome to the latest installment of The Legend Reborn! I'm glad you all enjoy this story this far. Things are heating up, I hope you all enjoy it!
Tython - Jedi Temple
Revan dismissed the Twi'lek pseudo-archeologist once he showed him the way towards the old holocron vault. When sensing his reverence and delicate care for the millennia-spanning ruins, however, the former Sith Lord couldn't help but wonder how the middle age Twi'lek would treat him if he knew that Revan was even more ancient that the temple complex around them. The idea made him smirk briefly once he was alone. Then he frowned, remembering he wasn't actually alone.
Crossing his arms, he spread his senses across the now empty holocron chamber and called out. "All right, I am here as requested. Will you show yourself now?"
At first, nothing happened and Revan started wondering if his old, spiritual friend was playing a practical joke on him. Then, he felt a presence…a disembodied presence. Revan closed his eyes briefly for greater focus before nodding to himself almost imperceptibly. This definitely wasn't Gonar Endac.
"Are you going to make me ask twice?" Revan asked, more curious than annoyed by the lack of response from the Force ghost.
The former Sith Lord continued to sense the otherworldly presence but could hear nothing. Frowning, he started to wonder if perhaps the Force ghost was weakened by the resurgence of the Dark side of the Force in the galaxy. As these thoughts passed through his head, he noticed a scorpion of considerable size approaching him from the far side of the room.
Revan looked at the foot-long creature with alert tension, calculating in his head how deadly the poison of the large arachnid could be. Then, he noticed something peculiar. The animal was wounded.
It was hard to see in the relative darkness of the room but Revan could sense its pain as it struggled to walk. Adjusting his eyes to the dark, Revan could see that the sting of the creature was almost severed and there were claw marks all around its body. Clearly it had gotten into a fight with a sturdier than expected prey and ended up worse for wear. It was unlikely the animal would survive long in the forests of Tython in that state.
Revan's first instinct was to put the creature out of its misery and eliminate a potential health hazard for the Twi'leks working on restoring parts of the temple. But something about the relentless pace of the predator, despite the obvious pain, gave him pause. He doubted the animal was sentient enough to develop a taste for masochism.
Then it dawned on him. The scorpion doesn't want to die. It saw an intruder enter its turf and its willing to fight tooth and nail to defend it, despite the obvious pain it feels.
A wave of inspiration filled Revan and for once he decided to ignore his instincts. It had been while since he had had to pacify wild creatures with the Force but tried to exude as much calmness as possible. The scorpion stopped. Still alert but now more curious than wary. Swallowing softly, Revan moved his hand slowly towards the poisonous tail, despite every instinct telling him to avoid the sting. The scorpion looked at it as if ready to spring at a moment's notice and Revan ignored the urge to fry the creature with Force-lightning. Finally, a green glow covered his right hand and he touched.
The healing was slow because of Revan's pent up tension. He didn't want to give the predator any impression that he wanted to attack it and so forced most of his body to remain still. After a few minutes, the animal looked perfectly healthy. Its black eyes were locked with Revan's gaze for a long moment of trepidation. Then to his astonishment, the animal bowed its arachnid head before Revan just before heading outside the chamber.
Before Revan could analyze what just happened, his sense of hearing brought him back on his feet.
"You aren't my preferred choice." The disembodied voice said. "But perhaps I was wrong to doubt you."
Revan narrowed his eyes. "Do I know you, Force ghost?"
"No," The immaterial voice said. "But you have met my master."
"Enough with the tests and riddles," The former Sith Lord said as he folded his arms. "Tell me your name."
Silence engulfed the chamber. Then a flicker of light appeared before Revan; showing a man in his early 60s dressed in brown Jedi robes with long hair. The image vanished in a flash.
"I am Qui-Gon Jinn." The Force ghost said. "And we have much to talk about."
Ebon Hawk - Hyperspace
Spar sat in the copilot's seat as the Ebon Hawk drifted through hyperspace. The silence hovered eerily in the ship, only broken by the distant hum of the engines. Spar tuned them out as his attention was fully devoted to the relic in his hands. The mask was clearly of Mandalorian design, with the T-shaped visor, and the ancient runes of the culture etched into its plating. He took a deep breath before placing the helmet over his head.
There was a metallic hiss as the helmet's enviro-seals kicked in, filtering the oxygen as he inhaled. The language of his people flashed across his Heads-Up Display as his suit quickly began to update the firmware in the helmet in order to be compatible with the rest of Spar's systems. Spar smiled behind the mask. For some reason, this felt right. He was skeptical of becoming Mandalore at first, but, now he felt certain that this was what he needed to do.
"Well?" The Count broke the silence, "how does it fit?"
Spar looked at his reflection against the ship's viewport. "Well, I'd say it suits me, wouldn't you?"
Dooku smiled, "You look like a leader, Spar."
The mandalorian hesitated, gazing at his counterpart from behind the visor. "It's not Spar anymore, Count. I am Mandalore the Resurrector. And I promise, I will resurrect my people," he stated.
"Well, I am honored to bear witness to your inauguration, Mandalore."
"I'm afraid we're not there quite yet. Fenn Shysa has proclaimed himself as Mandalore. According to tradition, even though I bear the mask, I still need to challenge him to single combat. It's an honor thing."
"And only the strongest will rule Mandalore?" the elderly force user inquired.
"Not rule, Count. Lead." Mandalore corrected.
"Well, we should be arriving in the system within a few standard hours. Do you have a plan?"
"When we arrive, we'll land in Keldabe; it's the capital. When we arrive, we'll be taken to the palace. When we see Shysa, I'll challenge him and I will win."
"And how can you be so sure they'll take you to the Palace?" Dooku asked.
"Because of this," he gestured to the mask, "the Resol'nare binds them to do so."
"Should I just follow your lead then?"
Mandalore shook his head, "I think it will be better if you just drop me off. I'm sure Revan has need of you back at Tython. I can handle this myself. I'll call the Star Forge when everything is sorted out.
Dooku bit his tongue. He didn't agree with leaving Spa- or rather Mandalore alone. But the man had a point. If he was capable of doing this alone, there was no reason Dooku shouldn't return to Tython. Certainly there was more to be done. Dooku nodded.
"You're right. We need to get as much accomplished as we can."
The next few hours ticked by slowly as the duo passed the time by checking over the ship's supplies once more. They had enough supplies on the ship to last a few weeks, but Dooku would need to refuel on Mandalore.
Dooku dropped the ship out of lightspeed and Mandalore facilitated landing clearance. They were diverted to docking bay D-3. The ship drifted into the hangar, landing with a slight hiss before the ramp descended. Mandalore stepped out of the ship in full beskar'gam, wearing his mask proudly as Dooku stood in the cockpit, keeping the engines on standby as he prepared to leave as quickly as he had arrived.
There was a brief pause as the security detail in the hangar as the guards exchanged glances, clearly aware of the mask before them.
Mandalore spoke up, "Take me to Shysa."
"Mandalore does not have the time to entertain pretenders," a female guard spoke up.
"Mandalore stands before you, ad'ika. I bear the mask of Mandalore, last worn by Mandalore the Hammerborn before the Death Watch stripped him of it. I am Mandalore the Resurrector, and I am ordering you to take me to the pretender." Mandalore stood adamantly in front of the warriors before them. They exchanged glances once more before nodding at their true leader. They escorted him out of the hangar as servicemen began refueling the ship.
They were loaded onto a private shuttle to take them to the palace, one of the guards from the hangar approached Mandalore, "He's been told to expect you. You've been granted an audience for one hour."
"That's all I need," he said as he smiled beneath the mask.
The shuttle touched down at the palace. He was escorted through the halls; he couldn't help but admire the mosaics of leaders lining the walls as they stepped through the halls. He glanced above the doorway to the antechamber. There he saw the still shattered fragments of the late Duchess Satine's mosaic overhead.
He stepped inside, across the hall he could see Fenn Shysa sitting upon the throne. Mandalore cleared his throat. "I challenge you to single combat!" He declared, "Only the strongest shall lead Mandalore."
Shysa regarded him with an expression of contempt. He put his helmet on his head before stepping down from the throne, standing mute before his challenger.
"Very well." He finally spoke, "The terms are simple. We face each other with our full arsenal."
Mandalore smiled beneath the mask. The room slowly cleared out of Shysa's advisors, Mandalore drew his blaster pistol and fired a volley of bolts in his foe's direction. Shysa instinctually dove to his left, dropping into a roll before firing a grapple cable at Mandalore. He grunted as Shysa' subdued him. He knew there were ways to turn the situation in his favor. He queued his jetpack using his helmet interface. The thrusters roared to life as Mandalore shot toward the ceiling of the throne room, pulling Shysa up with him.
The false ruler grunted as he hung suspended below Mandalore. He severed his own cable, allowing him to drop down to the floor once more. Shysa drew his blaster and began firing at Mandalore, attempting to disable his jetpack.
Mandalore put more power into the jetpack, charging toward Shysa and jabbing him with a rocket propelled punch. The thrusters died out as he ran out of fuel, landing several meters from his opponent.
Shysa hesitated for a second before pulling out a small mandalorian vibroknife. Shysa lunged at Mandalore with the knife but his opponent anticipated it. Mandalore deflected the blade with the brace of his gauntlet. Shysa kicked him in the chest before making another jab. Mandalore caught his wrist, contorting it until the pain caused Shysa to lose his grip. He dropped the knife.
Shysa collapsed to the ground as Mandalore stabbed him with his own vibroknife. He coughed and sputtered as the wound began bleeding. He reached for his helmet, his hands shaking, "You are more a mandalorian than you realize," he began. "Learn about the past, it will guide your future. Keep honor alive among our people." He struggled to continue, his voice becoming raspy and distant. "Show them that the old traditions... the... the code of the warrior is worthy of defending. Unless you believe in something... you will become an empty shell..." He smiled at Mandalore, "Vode... an."
Mandalore stood over Shysa as he bled out. He took off his helmet before reciting the ceremonial chant of remembrance, "Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar Darasuum."
He let out a long sigh as he contemplated what was next. Tradition had been satisfied. He was Mandalore and his authority would now be recognized across the galaxy. The regime change would certainly require some transition, however Spar was certain that many of Shysa's chosen advisors would fit his- and by affiliation- Revan's plans. Additionally, he would have to handle any imperial entanglements. He would need to negotiate some form of agreement with them, but he couldn't afford an Imperial presence in Mandalorian territory if he planned to reunite the clans. However, he couldn't outright defy them. The Empire may still be in infancy, but it would work against him if he were in Palpatine's crosshairs.
He opened the main door to the audience chamber. His advisors poured into the room. While a few of them stood hesitantly at the sight of Shysa's corpse, most of them had no reservations over their new Mandalore. They stood throughout the room. The Director of Labor was the first to address him.
"What is your wish, Mandalore?" she asked.
"I want everything we have on the current state of the planet. The economy, trade agreements, everything. Send word to the Mandalorians on Concord Dawn, I want to speak with the Protectors immediately." He declared. The Protectors were an ancient group of Mandalorians who served the ruler of Mandalore as a personal guard. "Also, someone bring me up to speed on the current agreement with the Empire. I need to know if Shysa had made contact."
Arren Wren stepped toward him with a datapad, "The Empire has made an offer to purchase mining rights in the Tokursh area. They're still waiting for a response regarding their offer."
"What are they offering in exchange?" Mandalore asked.
"They've offered eight-hundred million credits."
The new leader hesitated, "Contact the Empire, inform them that we will have an answer within a standard week. I want orbital security on alert. No imperial ships are allowed to land without my personal authority, is that clear?"
"Yes Mandalore," she answered.
"One more thing. Send a transmission on all Mandalorian channels. The clans are to return home. It's time we returned to the old ways."
There was a murmur of mixed responses among his advisors, another of his advisors spoke up, "Sir, are you sure that is wise?"
Mandalore stood from the throne, adamant in his previous claim. He recited Shysa's last words, "The code of the warrior is worthy of defending. I will resurrect our people's culture and a new era will begin. So says Mandalore the Resurrector."
There was a sigh of discontent from the Director of the Interior as Mandalore finished his declaration. Mandalore glared at him from behind the polarized visor of his helmet.
"Is there a problem?" Mandalore questioned.
The man remained silent, clearly intimidated by the large ruler before him, "No problems, Mandalore. Not yet." He turned and left the throne room. Mandalore's gaze followed him as he left. Mandalore didn't expect that. If his own advisors didn't share his goal, he would need to replace them. He returned to his seat, gesturing for the rest of his advisors to leave the room.
The new leader sighed. He had more work ahead of him than he realized. To raise an army without the Galaxy's notice was a near-impossible feat. If he defied the Empire, they would send their ships to subdue him, and his people. As a people, the mandalorians had been in decline for millennia. He chuckled. The defeat at Malachor V had signified the end of an era for his people, and the beginning of a slow, painful death for their way of life. In a way it was like a cancer, always growing, regressing slightly as the symptoms were treated, but certain to end in death. It was ironic really. Just as the title implied, Revan had butchered their way of life, and now, Mandalore was restoring his people so that the man who had slaughtered them could command them.
Mandalore knew what was at stake in the galaxy. IF there was anyone who could take on the Empire, it was certainly the mandalorians. But if he was going to prepare them, he would need help. He would need trainers. He would need the Cuy'Val Dar.
"If Revan rescues Darman and Niner like he says he will," Mandalore said to himself, "then Kal will help. He has to."
Dathomir's surface – Talzin's Stronghold
Barriss waited for Plagueis in the antechamber wondering what was taking him so long. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to spot any of Gethzerion's Nightsisters in the distance but she couldn't perceive any through any of her senses. It appears they were keeping their distance, just as their leader commanded.
The sound of footsteps snapped her out of her thoughts and Plagueis showed up in the entrance. He had a long scroll in his right hand. The Muun's face covered in sweat but if he was feeling weak, he didn't show it in his stride. In fact, he looked pleased.
"You seem to be in a good mood," The Mirialan noted.
Plagueis chuckled. "I suppose. I have been seeking to get my hands on Mother Talzin's personal writings about the nature of the Force powers of their clan for a long time now. But we can examine the document on the way. Let's get back to Tython."
Barriss nodded and started to follow the Sith to their ship. When they were finally at the ramp, the Mirialan looked back at her surroundings and easily committed them to memory so that she could remember it as the place where the next chapter of her life began. Putting her hood back up, she entered the ship.
Ten standard minutes later they were in orbit, overlooking the planet below. "Prepare for lightspeed," Plagueis called out and Barriss strapped herself to a chair as she looked out the window while the blur of hyperspace engulfed them.
As soon as it was safe to walk around the ship, she approached the cockpit when Plagueis called her.
"What is it?" She asked him.
As an answer, the Muun handed her over the scroll. Raising an eyebrow at the action, she waited for an explanation.
"I have to remain operating the cockpit for about half an hour before I can take a look at the scroll," Plagueis said. "I imagined your curious mind might find that scroll as some very interesting reading material while we wait."
Barriss grinned. "Now that's an educated guess. Thank you," She said in appreciation.
"Don't mention it but do share any interesting findings when I get there. Perhaps you may be able to find a connection I may miss."
There was a bitterness in his tone when he said those words and with a start Barriss realized he was thinking about his last apprentice; wondering which connection he missed that could have clued him into the assassination attempt. Suddenly filled with conviction, she vowed not to let him down.
"Of course."
A couple of minutes later, Barriss was examining the scroll in the widest table on the ship, her eyes captivated by the unique text. Talzin had named her Nightsister's codex Wild Powers and the beginning shared her personal take on the history of Dathomir and the Nightsisters. While clearly biased to fit Mother Talzin's world view, the first few pages shared a few interesting details such as the previous existence of an Infinity Gate created by the Kwa Civilization on the Pre-Republic history and the fact the Kwa on-world lost a war with the Rakatan Infinite Empire soon after its construction.
She quickly went through some parts of the origins of the Nightsisters because she had already researched the biography of Allya from the Jedi perspective but although she took note of the discrepancy between records for later reference. Eventually, however, she found something that made her frown. She found the very detailed drawing of a creature that looked like a night-black gargoyle. At the top of the design, she saw a title that described the creature as "The Fanged God".
Barriss bit her lip as she remembered Gethzerion's parting words. She had dismissed them outright as superstition back then but she couldn't shake the feeling that she had read a report in the Jedi Temple about a creature that matched the description of this so-called god.
Determined to find out more, she read Talzin's musings on the higher being. According to Nightsister Lore, the Fanged God was seen in that shape when the Nightsisters tried to draw their powers from him and also from his counterpart, a white griffin-like creature described as the Winged Goddess. As a duo, the Nightsisters refer to them as the Twin Deities…
The revelation hit her right between the eyes. Blinking, she remembered the words in Skywalker's report. "The family of Mortis…" She whispered in wonder.
Tython's Surface - Jedi Temple
Revan tried to see if he could remember the Force Ghost's name from somewhere. He failed. "You'll have to forgive me if that name doesn't ring a bell," Revan stated with a shrug. "I have been out of the loop for a while."
Qui-Gon didn't make himself visible again but Revan didn't need to see his expression to sense his calmed amusement. "Understatement of the millennium."
Revan smirked. "Well, this millennium anyway."
"Quite right," The disembodied voice said in agreement, then paused as if mentally double checking what he wanted to say. "At any rate, who I am is not important…my message is."
Revan raised an eyebrow at such a specific response. "Now you are just plagiarizing," He responded with an utterly straight face.
For a moment, Qui-Gon was silent. Then Revan heard a noise that would make him wonder for the rest of his life if Force ghosts can stomp the ground in exasperation.
"We don't have much time," The deceased Jedi said. "Feel free to ask my former master about me when he gets back from his mission to Galidraan. For now, I need your undivided attention."
Revan frowned when the Force ghost confirmed he was Dooku's apprentice. From his old Jedi days too, if his lack of a Dark Side Force signature was any indication. Still, he decided to let him speak his mind. Or metaphysical brain. Whatever.
"I never completed the training that allows Force users to manifest their consciousness after death," The invisible voice said. "As a result, I can only show myself as I once was to you for the briefest of moments and even then only in places with a very strong connection to the Force."
Revan nodded, quickly catching on. "So that's why you wanted me to go to the Tythonian Jedi Temple.
"Correct. And now, I can tell you why I have brought you here," Qui-Gon claimed. "I have been tasked with giving you Force visions."
"Is that so? By who?"
"That's for me to know and for you to find out." The disembodied voice said with just the slight hint of mirth.
Wondering if this was retaliation for not taking him seriously earlier, he decided to roll with it. "All right, I accept the glimpse into the future. But could you at least tell me why are your superiors interested in granting me Force visions of potential futures?"
"Because you are a force for great change, Revan, both literally and figuratively" Qui-Gon replied. "And while I personally disagree with you on many, many things, I can't deny the fact that this galaxy could use some much needed positive change."
Before Revan could respond to that, his sight went blurry and he lost track of time.
Hyperspace - en route to Tython
"Start at the beginning," Plagueis demanded with eagerness. "And tell me everything you know."
Barriss took and deep breath and nodded. "About a year before my trial Anakin Skywalker, Obi-wan Kenobi and Ahsoka Tano went to the Chrelythiumn system to investigate the signal behind a Jedi distress call that has not been used in over 2000 years. They ended up being Force pulled with the might of a tractor beam all the way to the hidden sanctuary of a family of 3 extremely powerful and incredibly long-lived Force users."
"Go on," Plagueis urged her.
Barriss bit her lip. "After reading the introduction of their report, I got the impression that they were members of the ancient, almost legendary Celestial species but something was off with that hypothesis, mainly, the fact those 3 seemed to embody different aspects of the Force. The Daughter represented the Light side, the Son represented the Dark side and the Father represented the fragile balance between the two or perhaps the Unifying Force, I was never clear on that," The Mirialan muttered. "So, I am left to assume that these beings were either higher beings even for Celestial standards or they were originally members of the nearly mythical race that found a way to become much more in the distant past."
"And their descriptions look just like the ones in the Nightsister's Codex?" Plagueis pressed on.
"To the letter," Barriss confirmed. "According to Skywalker they could change their shapes but the midnight black gargoyle was like the default aerial form for the Son when the wanted to fly and the shiny white gryphon the Daughter's flying form."
Plagueis paused his interrogation for a long moment as he analyzed those facts quietly. Then his curiosity took over and he broke the silence.
"And why did they bring the Jedi to their domain?"
"To test Skywalker, apparently," Barriss responded. "The Father wanted to know if Skywalker was actually the Chosen One."
"And what was his verdict?" Plagueis asked sharply.
"I don't know," Barriss said with a growl. "Any extra details from the report were well above my rank and paygrade."
Plagueis paced the living room with lightning dancing around his clenched fists. Barriss decided to stay silent, since the Muun Sith Lord looked like he had been cheated out of a rigged lottery. Eventually he calmed down somewhat.
"We will have to find out more about that encounter," Plagueis decided. "Asking Skywalker is out of the question in the near future, however, now that he is Sidious's armored bulldog at the moment," He muttered. "If Kenobi is even still alive he will either show himself soon in a spectacular manner to take down his former apprentice or he will go deep, deep underground. That leaves Ahsoka Tano. Where could she have gone now that she left the Jedi Order before this systematic purge began?"
Barriss shrugged. "To her home world of Shili, perhaps? It's not like I was in any position to ask her at that point."
The Muun grunted in exasperation but didn't blame her at all. She took that moment to snap him out of his thoughts.
"Regardless of the classified information, you do realize what this means right?" Barriss asked with excitement. "We have cracked the mystery behind the origins of the religion of the Nightsisters and their source of power; they just have their own shamanistic names for the 2 Celestials in constant struggle. As for all that talk about spirits and the realm they inhabit, I am now pretty sure that they were peering into the Cosmic Force, with the spirits being the dead passing on as part of the cycle that powers the wellspring, thus feeding into the prophetic abilities of the living in the Force-strong planet of Dathomir. This is an astonishing discovery!"
Plagueis smiled at her and Barriss smiled back when the sense the waves of pride rolling off him. "Indeed. Well done Barriss."
Tython's Surface -Jedi Temple
Revan gasped as the Force visions ended. Shaking his head to clear it. He thought back on the things he saw.
"What are the odds of those potential futures actually occurring?" Revan asked the empty air, his mind already thinking of possible contingencies.
"Almost entirely guaranteed without your time travelling interference," Qui-Gon said gravely. "Whether or not you want to interfere is completely up to you."
Revan's face became a mask of neutrality for a long moment. "And you still intend to keep me in the dark about the ones that task you to trigger remarkably accurate Force visions, which is a nearly unheard of Force ability, I might add?"
"I am afraid so," The deceased Jedi replied. "We are not sure what you would do with such knowledge yet. We may want you to have some guidance for positive change but some pieces of information should be classified for most mortals, even it doesn't always turn out to be the case."
"Wonderful," Revan muttered. "Anything else?"
"Three things actually," Qui-Gon said with a soft voice. "Please tell Master Dooku that I will always be with him."
Revan paused at that request before nodding in agreement. "What else?"
Now the former Sith Lord was sure he could sense a considerable hint of amusement in the apparition. "Tell Plagueis I said hello."
Revan smirked, remembering he doesn't believe in Force Ghosts. "I'll be sure to make him a believer, don't worry."
It took a while for Qui-Gon to respond and when he finally did Revan could hear distortion in his voice. Eventually he managed to compose himself. "Communicating with you for this long has taken a toll on me," He explained. "I must go. But beware the events of the last vision Revan. That one in particular is of catastrophic proportions."
Revan nodded almost imperceptibly. "Duly noted. And thank you Qui-Gon Jinn, you are one hell of a messenger."
"May the Force be with you."
"And you as well.
Qui-Gon's presence left Revan's extra sensory perception in a flash. Then his face darkened. "Beware the "Fake" Chosen One," Revan mused. "Do not worry, I will be sure to keep that one in mind."
AN: And thus ends chapter 22! I'm going to try and post one more update before the end of the month, as come August 29th I'll be out of touch for a few months. Until next time! As always, remember to please review, and PM me if you feel the need
-CaptainCakeless117