Author's Notes
Hi, everyone. Unfortunately, there has been some personal stuff that made me stop writing fics for a while, but now I'm back and the chances of this repeating are zero. Depressing particulars at the end of the chapter.
In other news, I now know what I want from this fic: a kind of epic weird space saga with focus on character-building. Again, look up the end of the chapter if you want to know more.
Let's hop in.
Chapter 3
Captain Hax hadn't carried anything illegal, so Dooku had decided to let the man go. Jedi weren't police officers even if sometimes he wondered whether they should take a larger part in law enforcement. It seemed these days that Republic was full of loopholes for those willing to smuggle, steal, and sell other sentient beings into slavery, and he had no doubt the Senate directly profited from these activities. It was disgusting.
What he couldn't let go in good conscience were two questionably sane Force Sensitives, so he had invited Tab and Revan to his vessel. At best of times, those who hadn't got their education at the Jedi Temple were weird. At worst, they could be unstable or outright homicidal, and in his many years of service to the Force he thought he had seen every kind of strange, but these two took the cake.
"I'm sorry, what's the name of this game again?" Dooku asked Revan. "It looks like simplified sabacc."
They were sitting in the cargo hold, and the two men had been playing a card game for an hour, gambling with small amounts of credits.
"Can't believe you've never heard of pazaak. The point is to get as close to twenty points as you can without exceeding the number. If you get more than twenty, you lose."
"It's twenty-three in sabacc, and you can win by getting zero, two, and three in a sequence too. And the cards shift randomly. And you can keep them from shifting by revealing them to your opponents."
Revan scoffed. "Well, never played your needlessly complicated game, but there is a side deck here, and you can play an additional card from it per turn. Want to try? We'll let you borrow our cards."
"I would rather observe."
"No surprise a Jedi doesn't want to gamble," said Revan. "Suit yourself."
Dooku sat on his heels like all Jedi had been taught since time immemorial. Tabook held the same pose with ease that marked him as someone who had long since gotten used to it. Maybe he had been trained since childhood, like other Jedi. Revan lay on his right side, supporting his head with his right hand. He looked completely relaxed, almost sleepy.
"Revan, I've been meaning to ask you. Did your parents know the significance of the name they gave you?"
Revan smirked up at him and kept playing for a while. Eventually he said, "Names are earned. And mine has been troublesome on so many occasions I'm not sure it's worth its price anymore." He paused, considering something. "But you say you know it. Is there a Revan in Jedi history?"
"How about you answer my questions first?" asked Dooku.
"Is this an interrogation?" asked Tabook.
The older Jedi Master sighed and held up his hands in surrender. The pair had been more amiable toward the smugglers than to him. He said, "No, I'm not charging you with anything. The pirate ship logs have clearly shown that they attacked you first. I just wonder where all the records from before the attack went. And I wonder where your ship got their goods."
"A computer glitch," said Revan. "Now please stop interrupting. I have a game to win."
Dooku watched them play a game to a draw before deciding there was no harm in telling them the story. "She fell." Dooku was silent for a moment and then shook his head. "Revan was a Jedi Knight thousands of years ago. When the Mandalorians waged war upon the Republic, and the Jedi hesitated, she rebelled. She defeated the Mandalorians at a terrible cost and turned on the Republic. She almost won too but lost her memory in the end. The Council used her to destroy her apprentice Malak, and when she once again moved against the Republic, her own allies killed her." He opened his datapad, wondering if he had copied this story onto it at some point. It wasn't there. "Revan was a Mandalorian name, and after she beat her own people, they stopped naming their children with it."
He watched the two men carefully, but didn't catch anything beyond a guarded look passing between them. Tab snapped a card on the table. "Twenty," he said. "I win."
Revan smiled. Dooku saw he was at sixteen. He pulled another card from the deck. It was a seven. He said, "And I lose. It was a fine game. And you can't deny that Revan simply sounds badass despite whatever history you moldy Jedi might have with it."
Tabook nodded and turned to their host. "So why don't you tell us what you want from the two of us?"
"I would rather have that conversation after making my own observations."
He twitched a finger and a durasteel peg flew from a pile of spare parts behind Tab, heading for his head. Just before it hit, the man's eyes narrowed, and he leaned out of the way.
"Observations like that," said Dooku.
###
Dooku was asleep or in meditation, and Revan was in the workshop with Tab. The ship was spacious for such a small crew, and it was easy enough to avoid people they didn't want to meet. They still had five days before they would land.
"Deva's Fall is pretty great," said Revan. "Remember the restroom on Ebon Hawk? My knees touched the door. I had to use Battle Meditation to get there first in the mornings, because everyone just had to go."
Tab said, "Yes, I remember. If only the Jedi Council could see their most precious technique being used to speed spaceship crew through the shitter." Both of them chuckled. "What do you think of our host?"
"Dooku? He is pretty good. For one, he suspects." Revan gestured at his smuggler clothes. "He knows something is up with us, and he is using this travel time to let us trip over ourselves. Efficient. I like him." He chuckled. "Although I don't appreciate the whole stuffy old Jedi Master routine. I've had enough of that crap for a lifetime."
Tab nodded, and the two of them laid their lightsabers on the workbench and opened them up. Revan had removed his crystals and the cylinder was now full of broken parts. He shifted through the components.
"My emitters are shot," he said. "The containment ring has two hairline cracks, but I can easily solder those with a plasma streamer."
He took a small cube from the pile, examined it with a loupe, then spun it with the Force for a moment. He weighed it in his hand. "Well, the diatium power cell still has the gas in it, which is good because getting that could be a huge pain."
Tab said, "Mine is still sealed too. We'll need to test the discharge mechanisms once we get the containment field working again and then there is the emitter. I guess this is what shorted out when we got here."
Revan nodded. "I think the space between dimensions was filled with lightning, which is why we got singed. My saber looks like an electric spark spontaneously flared inside the cylinder, bypassing the insulation. It activated the magnetic containment field with an inert power cell, and without the plasma stream for the field to wrap around, the magnets just wrecked the entire thing. Only the outer cylinder and non-metallic components are still working."
Tab sorted out the irreparable bits and threw them into a mini incinerator. His friend then took the empty casing of his weapon and caressed it absent-mindedly. He said, "It's like Kreia used to say, isn't it? We Jedi are supposed to be resilient, powerful, and wise, but take away our toys, take away the Force, and we become helpless." He shook his head. "How long do you think we need?"
"Two days if we can find all the spare parts. Three if we want to install the bifurcated igniters and make the sabers waterproof again. That is, if Dooku doesn't have some spare emitters made to our specifications lying around."
###
They said they had no memory of being trained in the Force, but Dooku didn't believe them. There was a lot about the pair that didn't add up. He saw they were experienced warriors in the way they moved, always alert and gliding across the floor even when simply walking to the mess hall. He could tell they were skilled at manipulation, which supported his theory of them being trained under a renegade Jedi. Only the Force knew how many they had lost, and some species could live for a very long time.
But when he looked through the Force, there was nothing more to them than the faint pulse of sentient life. He was sure there was something there, but there was some sort of complex shield or a veil, and he had been apprehensive of veils as of late.
They had been travelling together for a week, and all he had learned was how to play pazaak and that both men liked to exercise. Revan was stronger and more agile, doing endless reps of push-ups, crunches, and chin-ups in the cramped ship gym. Tab favored medium level static poses that half the galaxy made a use of, including the Jedi. The pair would happily listen to him when he tried to explain the peace-keeping mission he was on, but they didn't offer any information about themselves.
"So somebody has been harassing this Gran colony, and they asked the Jedi to intervene?" asked Revan.
They were in the mess hall slowly chewing on white sinewy roots that Corellians grew for space travel. They tasted like resin and felt like bricks in the stomach, but a human could subside on one pound of the stuff for days. Dooku decided his current mouthful couldn't be improved anymore by chewing and swallowed, feeling it scrape along the walls of his throat.
"Gran have no military," he explained. "They are a profoundly peaceful race, and they are vulnerable even on their home world. Thousands of years ago, after the Ruusan reformation but before the Rule of Two, Kinyen decided to stop emigration by cutting ties with the colonies. The orphaned planets are little communities now, and Gran need a large number of social bonds to stay sane and healthy. It's hard for them."
"Why don't they go back?"
"They can't. Those who have lived away from the home world are treated like lepers. They can land and walk Kinyen for five days once a year. Staying more is an offence punishable by permanent banishment."
Revan ruffled his black hair, and reddish mess hall lights glinted off his eyes. He said, "And the Republic protects the colonies?"
"Without our protection they would be preyed upon. None of them would survive more than a century."
Revan sighed and started furiously mincing his roots into white mush.
"So they can't survive in this galaxy," said Tab.
"With the help of the Jedi they can," said Dooku.
"I believe what Revan is asking is whether protecting them is right. The colonies could choose one planet and band together into a larger society. If they started dying out, the home planet could welcome them back. By protecting them, you are absolving Kinyen of any responsibility for turning their backs on their own people and you are stopping the colonies from searching for a permanent solution."
"They have no need to worry," said Revan. "Because the Jedi are always there when they need them. This is how problems build up, and then suddenly the Republic goes through a crisis, or there are less Jedi after some conflict with the Dark Side, and everything falls apart."
Much to his embarrassment, it took Dooku a week to be sure. When he was, he searched the ship for Tabook's presence, found him in the cargo hold, and headed there. Revan was in the workshop, probably tinkering.
Deva's Fall was a comfortable ship built for diplomatic missions, but it was still only a cruiser, so he got to his destination in two minutes. The room was dim-lit by blue lights that weren't meant to illuminate living beings. They made Tabook look like a statue carved from ice slightly glowing from within. Black boxes were secured to the walls on both sides of the narrow space in the middle, and one small container rested to the left of the man. Tab sat on his heels, motionless, his eyes closed. His chest didn't rise. Dooku sat opposite him and waited.
After a minute, Tab exhaled softly and opened his eyes. Blue glinted off his irises, making their grey flash azure for a second. Then the normal color returned. Neither Tab nor the lights in the hold moved.
"You are a Jedi," said Dooku.
The younger man tilted his head and looked him over with a playful smile. Yoda had a similar way of examining people: with faint amusement and bottomless pools of light hiding behind his mischievous eyes. Dooku suppressed an urge to twitch like he did back in his Padawan days when sitting in front of his Master.
"You say that like it's a terminal illness, Master Dooku. As if access to the Force is the only thing that matters." Tab shook his head. "To be honest, I don't know if I'm a Jedi."
Dooku listened to the Force as the other man spoke, and he heard no lies, but he had the distinct feeling there was on ocean of truth beyond the stream Tab was feeding him.
"Then what are you?" Dooku asked.
Tab opened the container next to him, and pulled out a thermopot. He then reached into a pocket and got a transparent bag of tea. Noticing Dooku's look, Tab said, "It is a habit I acquired during space travel. When moving around the Outer Rim, along the slower hyperspace lanes, one needs to pass time. And sometimes, there is little more left to do other than try to brew the perfect pot of tea with no equipment. At least the Alderaanians stocked this ship with plenty of leaves."
Dooku didn't react to the evasion and waited instead. He felt like this was some sort of test, and it irked him to be evaluated by a man half his age, but he would suffer through it if it would get him some answers.
Tab continued, "An old blind woman once told me that truth is a dangerous thing. That it can only be given when you can anticipate the impact it will have, and when the results are something you want."
"The Jedi Council could get the truth from you," said Dooku. "If you prove to be dangerous."
Tab grimaced as if he had swallowed a mouthful of Tatooine moonshine. "The Council doesn't have a monopoly on the Force, no matter what they might believe. They must follow the laws of the Republic. I doubt there is anything in those laws to get us interrogated simply because the Jedi are suspicious of us having unorthodox training."
The tea was ready then, and Tab poured it into two earth-brown ceramic cups. He pushed one to Dooku. "I will, however, tell you what is relevant, and what we would ask from the Jedi if your order is willing to give it."
Dooku didn't like not having control of the conversation, and he was one of the more level-headed Jedi Masters. He didn't think Tab's attitude would go well in that circular room on Coruscant where tempers and politics often got in the way of both spiritual growth and getting things done.
"Go ahead," he said.
"Both me and Revan had some previous Force training, that is true, but our level right now is that of Padawans, so you shouldn't worry. Padawans with some specialized knowledge but still." He let go of his cup, and it floated in the air for a moment. Dooku felt the strain in the Force—something he didn't know how to fake. It didn't mean it couldn't be done, though. "We also don't have much knowledge of the current affairs, because we led lives that were isolated from this galaxy."
Dooku sipped the tea. It was well-brewed, but if Tabook aimed at perfection, he still had a long way to go. Making tea properly required pouring water in at precisely the right temperature that differed for each brand. The master needed to get the leaves out after waiting just the right amount of time that was different for each tea. He wondered how much experience with tea Tabook had outside of being bored in hyperspace travel.
"You would like to join the Jedi?" he asked. "At your age that would be impossible."
"We already have the training," said Revan from behind Dooku, and the former noble jumped, nearly splashing scalding liquid all over his robes.
Tab shook his head with a smile. "Revan, come on. We've talked about sneaking up on people."
"We did," said Revan, nodding and sitting near his friend. "I listened to your opinion and chose to ignore it. Now give me tea."
Dooku looked between the two of them with a frown. "Jedi teachings are dangerous, and the two of you are brash, irresponsible, and not in control of your emotions. You are set up to Fall."
"Can a man be condemned for something he hasn't done?" asked Tab.
They drank the rest of the tea in silence.
###
Dooku meditated. The veil was slowly constricting around their necks, and the Council didn't know what to do about it. They all had learned to rely upon the Force in the smallest of things. It was frowned upon to use their powers to pick up a datapad that was just out of reach, but somehow the entire Order had let their free will become supplanted by revelation. Even he, after coming to terms with Tab and Revan's presence, didn't write a list of pros and cons and think about the problem logically. No, instead he went to his room to meditate.
If things kept going the way they were, something terrible would happen to the Order, he just knew it.
"Master Dooku? There is an emergency transmission for you. We picked it up between jumps."
"Thank you, captain, I'll be right there."
He rose from his knees, moved to the door, and stopped. He had been feeling more energetic lately, and old bones didn't bother him as much as they used to. Dooku took a moment to examine how he felt. He had trained heavily yesterday, and yet nothing ached today. His knees didn't hurt after an hour in meditation. He hadn't felt this healthy in a decade. He frowned and went to the bridge.
"Play it, captain," he said.
A figure of Mace Windu, hands behind his back, appeared above a holographic projector in the left part of the console. The man looked as frazzled as he ever got.
"Master Dooku, I hope this message finds you before you get to your destination. A fellow Jedi has been tracking an illegal weapons ring for a while, which led him to Geonosis. It turned out that a few months back a significant noble house expressed disagreement with the government's policy there. I'm sure you understand the consequences."
Indeed he did. Geonosians lived as a hive, and separate clans were allowed only so much autonomy. Going against the wishes of the hive resulted in banishment for individuals and death for groups.
Mace continued, "They were cast out, and reportedly formed a colony in the region where you are heading. When the Gran settled their world, they didn't pay attention to the habitable planetoids in the system, even if they have natural cavern networks, enough atmosphere, and very low gravity that make them ideal for space stations." Mace looked to the side. "Not now, I'm recording a message. Anyway, I am en route with backup. If you arrive earlier, you are to wait for me and my team away from the major hyperspace lanes. Send your intended coordinates as a reply to this message. We need to fix this before it turns into a bloodbath."
###
Revan looked at the regal old man, who looked more energetic lately. He wondered how long it would take for the Master to catch on to what was happening to him.
"Well, if we are dropping into a warzone, then perhaps you can help us with some repairs."
"You sure it's a good idea?" asked Tab.
"We are on a spaceship that is going to a system inhabited by warmongering space-bugs genetically engineered for battle. I need it fixed."
He walked to his locker, opened it with his key, grabbed the package, and carried it into the workbench in one of the cargo rooms they had been using. With all the tenderness of laying a baby into a crib, Revan lowered his treasure onto the working surface and unwrapped it.
###
Dooku looked at the disassembled lightsaber on the workbench in front of him and frowned. He reached his fingers to the casing but didn't touch.
"I have never seen anything like it," he said. "What is the alloy?"
Revan tapped his chin. "You know, I have no idea. The metal is a natural Force capacitor, and spectrometers fail when alayzing it. I know there is titanium, tungsten, and iron in there. You can pick it up if you like. It's not like it's a weapon right now."
The Master gingerly took the casing into his hands. It was matte-black, with a band of silver separating the handles for each hand. He knew the basics of double-bladed combat but no more than that.
"Somebody had this custom-made," he said shaking his head. "It is masterfully done, but it is clearly an object of pride that doesn't suit a Jedi."
Revan huffed, took the casing from his hands, and put it back on the altar. "It kicks ass is what it does. When it isn't a pile of junk. Anyway, I am missing a couple components for the shield matrix. I thought that a Jedi would have a type two-point-four coil lying somewhere. They always blow first."
Dooku turned to Tab. "Where is yours?" he asked.
The man pointed to the small box standing in the corner. Tab picked it up, laid it on a free part of the workbench, and opened the lid. The inside was separated into compartments, and various lightsaber components were lying in them. Dooku saw that one of the energy diffusors was missing. The lightsaber casing was even stranger and more intricate that Revan's. Dooku recognized the feel of wroshyr wood, and the silver inlays and blue gems made the lightsaber look more like something ornamental than a weapon. They didn't show him their color crystals. He hoped they weren't red.
"I still don't know anything about you," he said to them. "But I'll help you if you promise to follow my commands when we land."
The pair glanced at each other and nodded at him.
He gave his own kit to Revan and Tab, and they got to work on their lightsabers. Meanwhile, the ship dropped out of hyperspace to pick up any messages and move to the final hyperspace route. He was going to report to Coruscant on his findings but instead found himself calling the backup Jedi team under the command of Mace Windu.
"They are probably in hyperspace," said the captain.
The communicator blinked its lights for half a minute, then it clicked, and an image of the best weapon master in the Order appeared. He always seemed like an ancient obsidian war deity to Dooku: powerful and implacable. Only now he was scowling more than usual, and he was clenching and unclenching his right hand.
"Master Dooku," said Windu. "When do you expect to get here?"
Dooku blinked. It was rare for Jedi to drop all propriety. "Master WIndu. You seem uncharacteristically grim."
He saw the tendons in Windu's neck tighten. "Our navigator pulled a miracle, and we arrived before you. A colony of Gran is being attacked right now, and I have two companies of mercenaries with me that some dolt at the Temple didn't run proper background checks on. I need more diplomats here, and all I have is a dozen fighters."
"Wasn't Qui-Gon supposed to go with your unit? He is an experienced negotiator."
WIndu smiled, but his expression looked more like an animal baring its teeth. Dooku wondered if it would be appropriate for him to caution one of the most powerful Jedi about the dangers of the Dark Side.
Master Windu said, "Qui-Gon is good, might even be the best at the job. But the mercenaries turned out to be Mandalorians. Got kicked out of their home system after Mandalore went pacifist. They saw Geonosians slaughtering Gran and herding them into slavery, and they went berserk." Windu rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Apparently, they have a really low opinion of slavers. They have already bitten in half and spit out every Geonosian on the Gran world and are now demolishing the moon that serves as the Geonosian home base."
"Can't you just withhold payment?"
"They don't care. And apparently the contract specifies that they are hired to fight the Geonosians without any restrictions, and this is what they are doing. I need you here, Dooku."
"We are three hours out."
"They will probably make it to the only major town by then. Anyway, get here as soon as you can."
The communicator switched off, and Dooku slumped into his chair.
###
"Mandalorians," said Revan. "You want us to do diplomacy with Mandalorians."
"With all due respect," said Tab, "are you well, Master Dooku?"
He looked at the two men in turn. "Of course I'm well. Admittedly, we are dealing with the warmongering faction, but what they are doing is madness. They weren't contracted to wipe out all the Geonosians, and it will cost them a lot of people. Why are they doing this?"
Revan frowned and rubbed his forehead. "You said that Gran are being forced into slavery across the system and that they are a peaceful race that is not capable of defending itself."
"We don't have much intelligence from the ground, but it appears so. Their home planet was a violent one. Most animals hunt in large packs, and Gran developed a strong sense of community and social dependence to survive. They culled the more dangerous wildlife centuries ago, and Kinyen is now one of the most peaceful places in the galaxy. They focus heavily on community and agriculture."
Tab shook his head. "They are not an honorable enemy for a militaristic society like Geonosians. This is why Mandalorians want to wipe out their presence in the system."
"Why would they do that if they were hired only to subdue them?" asked Dooku.
Tab glanced to Revan, and the larger man stayed silent for a minute before finally speaking, "Mandalorian culture is built around the concept of honor gained in battle, but there are different kinds of battle. It all depends on the enemy they are fighting. If they meet a well-organized army that doesn't use underhanded tactics, a show of force can be enough to resolve a dispute. If they meet someone like the Gran, they might pillage the world for resources and potential recruits and move on. The Geonosians are a chaotic hive of murderous insects that have no respect for anyone outside their species. When fighting someone like that, the Mandalorians will go for extermination."
Dooku saw no hesitation in either man. They spoke of Mandalorian culture with such certainty that he couldn't resist a smile. "You are aware that what we are dealing with here is a splinter group, aren't you? The main portion of Mandalorian populace has embraced peace as its philosophy."
Tab blinked. Revan said, "Bullshit."
"It is the truth, I'm afraid. The depth of your knowledge surprises me, but it is as if all you know is outdated. In any case, yes, we need to convince them to stop fighting. The Geonosians will retreat now that the Gran proved to be no easy target. Such is their way." He looked at Revan. "Since you seem to be an expert on Mandalorian military culture, how do we make them stand down?"
Revan snorted. "There is only one way. We show ourselves to be a resourceful and honorable enemy. We land on the Geonosian planetoid, challenge their course of action through combat, and kill and maim enough of them to earn respect."
Dooku felt a chill creep up his spine at how casual Revan spoke about murder. "I was talking about the diplomatic approach."
Tab grinned without any mirth. "This is the diplomatic approach. The reason why your Jedi friends haven't had any luck is because the Mandalorians won't listen to anyone who hasn't spilled blood either with them or against them. By now you Jedi team is probably about to start fighting them anyway because there is nothing more annoying to a Mandalorian than some flowers-and-rainbow guy in a gown prattling about peace and getting in the way of a good fight."
Revan nodded. "The better option was to join the Mandalorians and kill enough Geonosians with them to earn the right to ask them to stop. But you Jedi decided to go for the doomed talk route."
They were discussing this on the bridge, so the captain and the pilot could hear what was going on. Deva's Fall had just exited hyperspace. The communicator blinked, and Mace Windu appeared again. His lightsaber was out, and he was busy deflecting blaster bolts.
"Dooku, get yourself and your people here now! These lunatics opened fire on me and my men. We are about to push for the Mandalorian command post to beat some sense into their commander, and we need all the support we can get."
The image flickered off, and the bridge was filled with thick silence. Raven sighed. "I'm going to get our lightsabers, Tab. You get the armor and ammunition."
Dooku walked up to the captain and said, "Take us in, captain. I want you to drop us off as close as possible to the beacon Mace Windu is carrying, and join the fight."
Tab stopped in the doorway on his way out. "Could you by any chance fly in over the Mandalorian positions and open the airlock on the way. That would be phenomenal." Without waiting for an answer, he ran off throwing an "okay, thanks, bye" over his shoulder.
The captain looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and Dooku shrugged. "Why not? Let's see what they can do."
###
Revan stood in the airlock and adjusted the armor. He tested how easily he could move and frowned.
"Damn it. I wish they had better equipment on this ship, so we could fix our robes. Ceramic plates, blegh. I miss the durasteel mesh in the lining."
His friend smiled at him, bent down, and touched his toes with his fingers. He then went through a short series of stretch exercises. "You are spoiled, Revan. You used to run around in armor much heavier than this, and you were fine."
"And whose fault is it that I switched to simple reinforced robes?"
"I refuse to take this because I taught you proper defensive techniques."
The intercom buzzed on. "Dooku speaking. Thirty seconds until drop-off. Are you sure about this?"
"Piece of cake," said Tab.
A decontamination shower started, and Revan laughed, careful not to inhale any of the chemicals. The ship was protecting the outside from any contaminants they might carry when they were about to start dismembering people in a minute. It was hilarious.
"Ten seconds," said Dooku.
Tab and Revan walked up to the door—a foot-thick slab of metal. He put a hand on it, and felt the vibration. "Like always," he said.
Tab nodded, bowed his head, and stretched his free hand forward. A bubble shimmered into existence around them, and Revan heard Dooku gasp on the intercom. He was too busy with reinforcing their bodies to reply. Force Valor was a basic reinforcement technique that he had worked on until it got perfect. As he was now, it took about a third of his reserves instead of the usually negligible drain. He forced himself to relax. He wouldn't be using Force Powers much during this fight anyway.
The door slid to the right in half a second, he and Tab clasped forearms and jumped out. The shield solidified into cerulean and stretched like any bubble would in a hurricane. The world flipped as they got tossed in the air a dozen times until the rotation slowed enough to see the rapidly approaching ground.
"Got it!" he shouted to Tab as he fired off a Force Wave to stop their spinning.
There was a squad of six Mandalorians in traditional battle armor and he used another blast to jut them toward the group. He could see a bead of sweat on Tab's brow but didn't comment. If Tab said he could do the job with these reserves, then he could do it.
The Mandalorians started rising their heads and their guns just when Tab thrust his right palm forward, and then grasped empty air with it. The Force answered his friend's call with a growl instead of the usual roar but it was enough.
The Mandalorians got tossed into a Force Whirlwind just as the two of them hit it. He felt the deceleration flatten his skin against his skull and push his eyes into their sockets. The shield slammed into the ground with a bone-rattling lurch, and then the two of them bounced, becoming as trapped as the Mandalorians were.
Being trapped in close quarters with two Jedi wasn't anyone's idea of a fun time.
Their blades ignited with a familiar snap-hiss, and Revan allowed himself a sigh of relief as he bisected a Mandalorian. He hadn't had the time to test the rebuilt weapon properly, so he had worried it wouldn't work after the drop.
Revan deflected an orange blast at another mercenary.
"Drop it," he said to Tab.
His friend cancelled the technique, and they, two corpses, and four more remaining enemies hit the reddish-brown ground. Their opponents thudded against the earth like potato sacks, but falling from ten feet up was nothing to a Jedi. He dashed to the center of the group and spun his blades in a circle, cutting apart three enemies. Beside him, Tab sidestepped a clumsy vibroblade swipe, lunged forward, and stabbed one of the Mandalorians in her left eye.
Tab glanced behind him and back, cursed, and flung his lightsaber. Revan dropped to the ground, and not a second later two laser bolts hurled past him, searing his skin with barely contained heat. Tab's silver lightsaber flew into the distance, there was a muffled scream, and it returned.
"Switch on your energy shield, Revan," said Tab. "It's better than health insurance."
He did so. The two of them ran behind a column and took a breath, surveying their surroundings. The planetoid hadn't been occupied by the Geonosians for long, but the insects had already made it their home. Tab and Revan were in a starport out on the surface, and it was a death trap. Ten-foot walls of brown stone separated landing pads from each other, and guard towers jutted a hundred feet into the air armed with projectors powerful enough to blind whoever they focused on.
"Impressive throw," said Revan. "That sniper on the tower was what, one hundred and fifty feet away from us?"
His friend grinned, one of his eyes bloodshot. "Yeah, but I'm almost out. Between the shielding and the fall and the throw I have burned through most of my reserves."
Revan thumped himself on the Alderaanian armor. "We'll be fine," he said. "Just focus on deflecting blaster bolts."
Their communicators cracked to life.
"Revan, Tabook, can you hear me?" asked Dooku.
"Yes," said Revan. "Had a bit of a rough landing."
"Are you all right?"
"Yes. The people we landed on aren't."
"Okay, right." A barrage of blaster fire sounded from the communicator followed by somebody yelling something. "We are pinned down near the main landing pad. The place is a killing box. There is a catwalk surrounding it, and it is full of Mandalorians shooting at us from behind cover. Apparently somebody forgot to include the don't-attack-your-employer clause in the contract."
Revan glanced at Tab and said, "That happens sometimes with Mandalorians. Don't worry, we should be fine once we decapitate their commander."
"There will be no—" the voice was replaced by a loud boom and thud of bodies. "Obi-Wan is down, damn it. Now would be the time to start that surprise attack you two planned."
"Right. I've got your coordinates, hold on for another minute."
The lights from one of the remaining towers swept across the lumpy ground and focused on the group of Mandalorians they had decimated. He heard the familiar whirr of stationary repeating blasters and didn't wait for them to finish spinning up.
"Run!" Revan pushed Tab out of their sorry excuse of cover, and the two of them sprinted to the main landing pad.
Even with their Force abilities had been dampened, their physical shape was the same as always. Adrenaline-filled blood pumped in his ears as Revan vaulted over a wall, landing behind a Geonosian who was under fire by two Mandalorians. He spun his blade, deflecting three bolts in random directions, and continued his dash. Geonosians were brown insectoid creatures with gossamer wings the length of their body that enabled them to fly. Their hives operated on a caste basis and they were beyond xenophobic. He couldn't blame them. Had he been an asexual insect living in a rock and bred to thoughtlessly follow the commands of fatter insects, he wouldn't understand other races too.
###
Dooku had sent his cruiser away to stop it from being shot down, but now he regretted it. He and a team of ten other Jedi were pinned behind the vessel the backup team had arrived on. Durasteel containers had been left by the Geonosians, and they along with the ship provided enough cover to stay safe as long as they didn't poke their heads out. Obi-Wan had, and now the boy lay on the ground with Qui-Gon tending to his wounds.
"This doesn't look good," said Mace. "I'm going to create an opening. When I do, you attack the catwalk on the left. It has the best cover from the guard towers even, if it has more people than other parts."
"You'll get killed, Mace," said Qui-Gon.
"Might get killed. And I was the one who dragged you into this mess, so it's my responsibility."
"Oh, get off the high horse," said Dooku. "We all knew what our position entails. Don't hurry to your death yet. I have help incoming."
"Ah, yes. The enigmatic Force users you've found. I don't know how two men can help us, even if they aren't dead yet."
One of the guard towers went silent. Dooku peaked from the container he had been hiding behind, and he had to duck back almost instantly. He heard the whirr of blasters and then his communicator turned on.
"Wait ten seconds and attack," said Revan. "I'll distract them."
"The towers?" asked Dooku.
"The towers won't be a problem. The countdown starts now." The communicator clicked off.
There were panicked shouts, and it took him a second to understand that the ones shouting were the Mandalorians. At least seventy of them were surrounding the dozen Jedi.
"What's going on?" asked Qui-Gon creeping toward Dooku and Mace after finishing bandaging Obi-Wan.
"We are waiting ten seconds and then we attack," said Dooku. A sharp scream pierced the shouts. "Five now." It wasn't a scream that a person made. It was a scream of metal—a guard tower collapsing.
"Now!"
Of eleven Jedi eight were in a good enough condition to fight. Mace crouched and then dashed up and forward in a Force Jump that Dooku could barely follow. He himself went low, darting to the catwalk in a series of short bursts of speed. Beside him, Qui-Gon moved fluidly, easily deflecting the few blaster bolts that were fired toward them.
Dooku jumped onto the catwalk and kicked off a Mandalorian who was about to open fire on him. A Force push to the face ensured that the soldier wouldn't be getting up and that nobody would reach his gun. He rolled behind a barrel, swept the feet from under another enemy and punched his lights out. Only after making sure that nobody was shooting at them did Dooku allow himself a survey of the situation.
"What the hell?" asked Qui-Gon, ducking under a vibroblade swipe and knocking out his opponent with a palm strike to the sternum. "Is that one of the strays you picked up?"
The reason they had been able to get out of the death zone was because almost every Mandalorian was firing at the opposite side of the killbox where Revan was mowing his way through their ranks. The man wore a spare set of Dooku's robes over medium armor, but he moved as if it didn't encumber him at all. He dashed forward, ducked under a barrage of blaster fire, almost lazily knocked two blaster bolts into Mandalorians, rolled, landed in the middle of a group of five enemies, spun around, and bisected three of them before Dooku could gasp. He then jumped into the air, and blasted himself toward another group, liberally using Force Pushes to evade the volleys fired at him.
His lightsaber was the color of gold stained with dry blood, and the width of the beam fluctuated like something alive.
"Stop gawking and help," said Tab on their channel. "He'll tire soon."
Dooku saw Mace's violet lightsaber flash about twenty feet from them and shook off the enchantment. There would be time for questions when they wouldn't be risking death at any second. He launched himself into the fray, allowing himself to use more force than necessary. Next to the path of carnage Revan was plowing through Mandalorian ranks, a couple soldiers mutilated by him wouldn't look too bad.
The fight lasted twenty seconds before the Mandalorians surrendered. It was the weirdest thing: thirty remaining soldiers just threw down their weapons and knelt on one knee. Dooku saw Revan exhale, bow his head in the enemy's direction, and sit heavily on a cargo box. He turned off the lightsaber but didn't clip it back to his belt. Tab walked up from the back looking dead tired but satisfied. He waved at Dooku in the most non-Jedi way possible and then sat down next to his friend.
"The towers are down," he said. "I don't think they had protocol for one of their own weapons turning upon them."
###
Revan turned off his lightsaber and leaned against a stack of crates. He let the Force trickle into him and breathed in purposeful slow breaths. The Mandalorians were kneeling before him, and Tab walked up him and laid a hand on his left shoulder.
"You okay?"
Revan nodded and clipped his weapon to his belt. "I think so." He took five more breaths. "Yeah, I'll be fine. I just forgot how much Force a Guardian uses. I didn't even try any of my techniques, and I'm drained."
Tab stepped forward to talk to the Mandalorians and the assembled Jedi, and Revan used the time to center himself and bandage the wound on his left forearm. He would heal it after getting some juice back.
"You seem adept at treating wounds. Care to help my Padawan?"
The man who approached him wore the robes of a Jedi Master. His beard and long hair were cliche enough to make Revan smile, but something in the man's eyes stopped him from laughing. There was intensity without arrogance in the gaze—something he saw rarely outside his own circle.
"Sure," he said and offered a handshake. "The name is Revan."
"Qui-Gon." The Jedi Master had a strong grip and hands hot as a furnace after the battle. "We can do proper introductions later. For now, tell me if you can do anything for Obi-Wan."
Revan shook his head. "Do all Jedi have such strange names?"
"Like you are one to talk."
"Touché."
The walked to an athletic young man lying behind some shipment crates. His robes were open in the front revealing heavy bruising, and there was an emptied medpac nearby. Revan recognized the wound immediately.
"Disruptors," he said. "I take it you haven't trained him in disruptor combat."
Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "There is specialized training against disruptors? I would welcome some even if they are illegal in Republic space."
Revan knelt by the boy's side, laid his hands on his chest, and started shutting off distractions. "It is very simple," he said. "The range is fifty feet at best. Get behind cover and shower the enemy with grenades."
"Grenades aren't a Jedi weapon."
"Never leave home without them," said Revan. "Damn hard to dodge or block a frag grenade since most shields work against energy. Don't you have healers with your group?"
Qui-Gon shook his head. "Very few have the talent for accelerating the healing in others, and all of the Masters and their apprentices are on Coruscant."
"Right. Now quiet, I need to work."
He should have called Tab to do the job as soon as he heard what the Jedi Master needed, but he would much rather throw his friend to the sharks of diplomacy than be fed to them himself. It was easier to focus on the Light among so many other Jedi, and he felt Tab gently siphon power from their surroundings giving him something to work with. Revan reached out with his senses and pulled the Force from outside, through Obi-Wan's body and then into himself.
Warmth flooded him to his eyes as energy filtered through the injured Padawan. Light made its way through the boy's system going around the ribs, the left lung, the liver, and the brain. Revan opened his eyes.
"Your Padawan has two cracked ribs, a bruised lung and liver, and a concussion. Two days in a regeneration trance should fix everything, and he'll be as good as new."
Qui-Gon blinked at him. "Regeneration sf a Knight-level technique. Some don't learn it until they make Master."
"You are kidding me. How can you be this complacent?" He gestured to the Mandalorian corpses surrounding them. "I mean, look at this mess." Revan ruffled his hair in annoyance. "Hey, Tab, you done there? We could use your medical expertise."
In the distance Tab waved off the Mandalorians and handed them off to the bald black Jedi who had moved like a true weapon master during the fight. His friend made his way to them, his steps careful. Revan frowned.
"How much did bringing down the towers cost you?"
"I used a lightsaber and heavy blasters." Tab flicked him on the forehead, and Revan was too tired to dodge. "What have you got for me?"
"This guy got hit by disruptor fire. You know more healing than I do. This is his Master, Qui-Gon."
Tab stared at Revan in suspicion until the former Sith grinned. His friend rubbed his forehead in frustration and motioned for him to move away from the hurt Padawan.
"You are his Master, right?" Tab looked at Qui-Gon. "Does he have extreme scarring from old wounds or intolerance to large amounts of toxins?"
The Jedi Master played with his beard a little. "Everybody has intolerance to large amounts of toxins, I guess." After seeing Tab's unimpressed stare, he added. "No more than anyone else."
Tab nodded sharply and waved Revan closer. "Since you piled this off on me, you get to hold him down."
With ease of long practice, Revan straddled the young man's stomach and pinned his arms to the ground. Tab sat cross-legged near Obi-Wan's head, laid his hands on his chest, and closed his eyes. Revan sighed. He had hoped Tab would work with his eyes open. He could see the soft glow start under the eyelids, but he doubted anyone else would. Qui-Gon was too focused on his Padawan.
The boy thrashed once, twice, then began to seize.
"Hold him still," said Tab, and a pulse of Force boomed from his hands, making his patient's muscles slacken.
It was over in a minute, but in that minute other Jedi had gathered around, reaching out with their senses. Revan barely suppressed a grin. Messing with people was fun.
End of Chapter Notes
EDIT NOTE: there was a scene at the end of this chapter with Tabook and Revan meeting Yoda. Yeah, I jumped the gun with that one as it belongs in the later chapters. It's gone.
So my grandfather died at the end of June, which is why I haven't updated in a while. We knew for a long time it was going to happen, but it still sucks. A strange thing, to lose someone who has been around since you were born. Like New York or Paris suddenly vanishing, and yet people around you just keep living, only you able to notice the loss.
I hope it hasn't impacted the quality of this chapter. Anyway, I'll be back to full strength soon, and I should be able to publish a chapter every couple weeks.
Good news is, I'm starting to get an idea of what Into the Maelstrom will look like. The Star Wars prequels are kind of lackluster (more like awful), and one of the reasons is because they feel small. I never got that feeling I had back when I watched the original trilogy—the feeling that Galaxy is limitless and full of secrets. I'd like this fic to have that.
For me, this is what makes the two KoTOR games so great: the feeling that you are making a difference in this limitless expanse of space by affecting just the right points (plus, you know, romance and training people to be Jedi). In the next chapter, I'll expose impressionable Padawans to Tab and Revan and some unsavory truths about the galaxy. Hopefully, soon they'll have a ship, a team, and a list of objectives that they need to accomplish while dealing with the overarching goal to go back to their reality. It should be fun, but I'm a bit daunted by just how huge the Star Wars universe is.
Also, my original novel is almost done. I find it hilarious that I first intended to finish it in March. It will be about 400 pages of sci-fi goodness, and I'm pretty much boiling with excitement at how it is turning out. The funny thing is that the stuff that won't go into the novel itself (character bios, politics, geography, all that stuff) is another 200 pages already. Anyway, I'll keep you posted, but all the writing, editing, and other stuff means it will still be at least two months. The itch to release it is getting unbearable.
Stay shiny and until next time.