The lower levels of Coruscant were always restless. Law enforcement rarely ventured here, and the locals had long forgotten the very concept of law. Skirmishes and firefights between petty gangs were a common occurrence, so no one paid any mind to the sound of shots and explosions, instead just trying to put distance between themselves and the source.
The security personnel of the Kirshaah clan had also grown accustomed to the local reality, sincerely believing they were well-prepared to repel any threat.
Until today...
Twenty minutes ago, an alarm signal came from the post near the barricade that blocked the entrance to the quarter where Kirshaah Slusk's base was located. But no details were reported. Communications cut out almost immediately, as if the post had been annihilated in a couple of moments. Then, an unknown force swept through the quarter like a hurricane, wiping out one security squad after another. The sounds of blaster fire, screams, and moans filled the clan base, instilling fear even in seasoned fighters. It was no joke—in less than five minutes, the enemy had cut down three dozen guards, none of whom were rookies.
Another twenty fighters were currently dug in at the building housing the clan leader. The Quarren himself had sealed himself inside a reinforced bunker three levels down, almost at the border with the next Coruscant level.
"Higher powers, what the hell is going on out there?!" one of the clan soldiers yelled, failing to suppress the rising hysteria.
"I don't know!" his partner hissed back, pressing closer to the blast shield of the security station right in the lobby of Slusk's residence. "But it's definitely the damn Hutts!"
Another volley of blaster fire rang out from outside, and then something struck the armored entrance door with force… and, by the sound, it was someone's body.
"Great Spirits!" whispered the Duros guard, tightening his grip on his blaster rifle.
The sounds of battle outside ceased. Silence fell.
The guards aimed their weapons at the door, trying to remain calm, but the sticky chill of primal terror, the dread of a helpless victim before a predator, twisted their guts ever tighter.
And then, a few seconds later, the world exploded. Or rather, an explosion thundered just outside the door, sending the armored entryway flying inward like a lethal projectile. Two men were unlucky enough to be in its path.
The remaining security didn't falter, opening fire into the doorway an instant later. However, they saw no target, which was, nevertheless, no reason to stop firing.
In the commotion, no one noticed a small thermal detonator roll into the lobby right after the door.
Instantly, a new explosion literally vaporized a dozen people, along with their fortifications, in a cloud of plasma. The rest, lucky enough to be farther away and behind blast shields, were hammered by the shockwave.
The next moment, a rusty-red whirlwind burst into the room, bringing death to everyone in its path. Only a few managed to recognize the new threat as a bronze-colored, red-eyed droid before a blaster bolt was sent their way or a powerful blow from a metallic arm knocked them unconscious.
The assassin droid operated with lethal efficiency, each blaster shot ending a life or rendering a guard's weapon useless.
To the clan fighters' credit, they returned fire just a few seconds later. One of the shooters even hit the target... almost. The charge grazed the droid's HK shell and ricocheted. If his colleagues had joined the lucky guard, the assassin droid might have sustained far greater damage. However, it was too late. The five guards who avoided the HK droid's immediate massacre each earned a scorched hole in their skull from the Mandalorian following closely behind the droid.
Twelve seconds! Exactly twelve seconds were needed for the mercenary and the assassin droid to eliminate the security team defending the lobby.
"Derision: Pathetic meatbags," HK-47 scoffed, scanning the room for signs of life. "It is a waste of a blaster charge to fire upon them."
"Well, considering how the Hutts have roughed up everyone connected to Black Sun," Tira paused to put a blaster bolt through the skull of some half-dead Duros, "it's still not too bad."
"Sarcasm: It could have been worse?" the droid inquired.
"They could have not met us at all," the Mandalorian shrugged.
"Agreement: One cannot argue with that."
"And by the way, you got tagged," Nomad pointed to a scorch mark on the HK's armor.
"Commentary: Calculated risk. Clarification: I secured the optimal firing sector," the droid explained, to which the mercenary merely shook her head.
Tira recharged her blasters and checked the fuel level in her jetpack. Oh, how much trouble it had caused the fighters outside. The guards hadn't expected a mercenary to soar thirty meters into the air from behind the droid, then rain hell upon the Kirshaah clan soldiers' cover. Attacking from two directions, the droid and the Mandalorian were unstoppable. A symbiosis of the mercenary's professionalism and the calculated efficiency of the killing machine.
Satisfied that the reserve was enough for another dozen jumps or horizontal bursts, Tira siphoned off some fuel for use in her handheld flamethrower. After all, you couldn't really fly much indoors, but fire would retain its effectiveness.
"Judging by the building layout, there should be a lift behind those doors," Nomad pointed to the far end of the room. "It should lead to Slusk's bunker."
"Confident Assumption: And Grizz Zahra should be with him," the droid added.
"Unless that pair of failures who gave us the coordinates for the clan base made things up out of fear," Tira shrugged, checking the grenade pouch on her belt.
"Objection: The coordinates were proven correct."
"That's the only comforting thought."
Meanwhile, the droid looked around and confidently headed toward one of the side doors.
"Where are you going?"
"Observation: The security room is located behind these doors. Hypothesis: The guard post should be equipped with a surveillance system."
"Hmm, sensible."
The mercenary joined the droid. Before entering, both prepared their weapons. As soon as the door slid open, Tira rolled into the room, rising into a fighting stance on one knee to assess the situation. HK followed, covering the sectors outside the mercenary's field of view.
"Clear," the Mandalorian reported.
"Confirmed," the droid echoed.
In the room, besides a weapons rack, a doorless entrance to a washroom, a protein synthesizer, and a small chiller, they also found a video surveillance console.
HK-47 quickly approached the terminal and began cracking the security with inhuman speed.
It took the droid less than a minute to penetrate the surveillance network.
A hologram opened above the console, displaying real-time camera footage. Thirty-four video feeds, each in its own cell on the main holoscreen. Four cameras were offline.
"Hypothesis: The enemy must have destroyed the surveillance equipment in their location."
"So we won't be able to see what's in the bunker."
"Confirmed," the droid agreed. "Remark: However, I believe I have found footage from a camera located outside the bunker."
HK enlarged one of the images, showcasing massive sliding doors in a narrow corridor.
"Damn, they sealed themselves in like a safe," the mercenary scoffed.
A plan of attack for such a fortified location needed careful thought, but they had no time. Every minute of delay increased the chances of Kirshaah calling for help from his Black Sun patrons. And that would mean a completely different scale of operation.
"Threat Assessment: There is a ninety-five percent probability that fierce resistance awaits us," HK noted. "Recommendation: Do not use the lift, but descend through the shaft and detonate the doors with a thermal detonator."
"No good," the mercenary countered. "The shockwave will travel up the shaft and hit us."
"Addition: The thermal wave will also propagate up the shaft, but significantly weakened," the droid nodded in agreement. "Proposal: If the detonator is placed within the lift car, its walls will help direct the blast energy onto the door. The portion that breaches the shaft will be negligible and easily compensated for by my shell and your Mandalorian armor."
Nomad crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head slightly, contemplating the droid's suggestion. Overall, she was inclined to agree with the plan, as they knew of no other entrance to the bunker. However… would a thermal detonator have enough power to breach bunker doors, which were most likely reinforced with durasteel?
The mercenary voiced her concerns to her partner.
In a matter of seconds, HK-47 calculated the specific strength of the mobile durasteel door's structure. He then compared it to the calculated blast power, accounting for the effect of high temperatures.
"Information: The power of two M-5 detonators should be sufficient for the partial destruction of the structure," the droid reported.
"And the wave that will hit us?"
"Assessment: Acceptable power."
Taking a deep breath, Tira nodded in assent.
"Then we use your plan. Detonate, breach, and sow chaos."
"Confirmed."
However, before the duo moved toward the lift shaft, HK received a contact request from the Master.
"Joyful Greeting: Good day, Master!" the droid began enthusiastically. "Report: The execution of your current assignment is progressing successfully."
Tira rolled her eyes, though it couldn't be seen beneath her helmet.
"The assignment will have to be suspended," Revan stated. "I have a new task for you. A much more important one at the moment."
The droid was somewhat taken aback, even slightly disappointed, if its emotion simulation module wasn't glitching. However, it could not disobey the Master's command.
"Acknowledged, Master," HK said submissively. "Inquiry: May I ask what sort of mission awaits me."
"Nothing special," the former Sith lord chuckled. "Merely a realignment of the Coruscant underworld and the elimination of the leaders of a local gang to seize control of the entire organization."
The information immensely pleased the assassin droid. Of course! It meant he would get to shoot another couple dozen of those useless meatbags!
Nomad gently tapped the droid on its chest plate, drawing its attention.
When HK turned its scarlet optical sensors toward her, the mercenary gestured at the surrounding chaos, clearly hinting at something.
The droid immediately figured out what the Mandalorian was trying to say.
"Joyful Announcement: Master! We have already started!"
Silence hung in the open communication channel.
"What?" Revan finally asked in a low voice.
"Message Repetition: We have already begun to execute your assignment," the droid replied.
"May the Force preserve us…" the former Sith lord barely whispered. "Elaborate on what you said."
"Explanation: During the execution of the previous assignment, I, with the minimal assistance of the Mandalorian female…"
"HEY!" the mercenary protested, throwing a fragment of an overturned table at HK.
Clang!
The assassin droid didn't even flinch as the duraplast shard struck the back of its head.
"My search led me and I…"
"Ahem!" Nomad reminded him of her presence.
"Correction: We," HK reluctantly conceded, looking indifferently at the mercenary who had pointed her blaster at him.
"And then?" Revan urged.
"We managed to find a lead connecting to two criminal structures cooperating with the Muuns."
Silence in the channel again…
"The explosion at the Hyperstar office and the firefight on the lower levels… Your doing?"
"Confirmed."
"Well, bantha dung," Revan hissed. "Where are you now and who are you engaged with?"
"Clarification: We are at the Kirshaah clan base; transmitting coordinates now."
"Kirshaah? That name is familiar…" the former Sith lord mused.
Maul cut into the conversation. Apparently, Revan was in the cockpit aboard the Dawn's Eagle.
"My Lord, the Kirshaah clan actively cooperates with Black Sun," the Zabrak reported.
"Hmm, the situation could prove useful," Revan concluded. "Kirshaah will help us find Black Sun's main sanctuary."
"Exactly, My Lord."
"Excellent," the former Sith lord snapped his fingers. "HK must interrogate the Kirshaah fighters and find out everything they know about Black Sun."
The droid surveyed the carnage around them.
"HK?" Revan called, receiving no immediate answer.
Tira merely grunted, watching the droid, whose processing power was entirely focused on trying to explain to the Master that… there was no one left to interrogate.
"Is anyone alive?" Revan asked, having guessed the reason for the droid's hesitation.
"Uncertain Remark: Yes… perhaps," HK finally replied. "Observation: It appears those two guards are still alive."
"Nope," Tira shook her head, cross-referencing her armor sensor readings. "One has a pierced head and is in a deep coma, and the other… hmm, interestingly, the head is separated from the body, but the heart is still beating due to residual impulses from the secondary nervous system… an interesting species. Pity we don't know which one. Couldn't you have shot more carefully?"
"Irritated Response: Actually, those are scorch marks from your flamethrower."
"And your thermal detonator," the mercenary retorted.
"Enough!" Revan interrupted the squabble. "As I understand it, there is no one to interrogate?"
HK hesitated. The loyalty protocols forced the emotion simulation module to mimic regret and guilt.
"Clarification: Not exactly, Master."
"Explain?"
"Elucidation: We have not yet captured the clan leader. He may possess the necessary information."
This news somewhat softened Revan's mood.
"Very well, in that case, finish what you started. Capture the clan leader and bring him to me. We will meet at the coordinates I am sending now. We still have much to do, so don't waste any time."
"Yes, Master."
The connection was severed.
"Blasters on stun?" Nomad grinned.
The droid sadly nodded.
Sometimes he hated the Master's commands… but he could not disobey.
Well, he would have to restrain himself.
However, the logic core provided an interesting thought: only the leader needed to be brought back alive.
The mission had just regained its sparkle!
Meanwhile, Revan. Dawn's Eagle. Public Landing Pad DB-2313. Sector 2310, Level 1011. Coruscant.
The ship's Master was deep in thought. In the few hours since the conversation with Jabba, Revan, with the assistance of Maul, had formulated a quite viable plan for a minor coup in Coruscant's criminal circles. It is also worth noting that the former Sith lord spent most of his time negotiating via holocomm. Indeed, in Revan's design, Black Sun would cease to exist in the coming days. And the Blood Claws would take its place.
First, the Master of the Dawn's Eagle contacted Ziro the Hutt, the Cartel's representative on Coruscant. The overgrown slug was… slippery. If Jabba mostly kept his word, earning him a reputation and respect on Tatooine, his cousin was notorious for always coming out ahead, regardless of the deal's original terms. Blackmail, extortion, and betrayal were the primary tools of the local crime boss. This led to troubling thoughts and generated distrust toward the Coruscanti Hutt.
The original idea was for Revan to eliminate the Black Sun leadership and reveal the coordinates of their main strongholds, after which Ziro would take control of the designated territory. The headless gang would be powerless to resist the Hutt fighters. In Maul's opinion, having thoroughly studied the local gangs in his time, Black Sun would not resist for long. Some of the leadership might stick to their principles, but the rank-and-file fighters and enforcers would not wait to be slaughtered. Upon learning that the gang's top brass—that is, everyone with real power, connections, and the ability to fend off the law or the Cartel—were dead, the small-time players would scatter to find new patrons.
And that is where Ziro the Hutt was supposed to step in, offering Black Sun the chance to merge with the Cartel.
However, after studying information about Ziro and speaking with him personally, Revan changed the plan.
The former Sith lord spent about an hour in conversation with Tatooine. The shadow leader of the Blood Claws brought a local gang leader—Ticho Dorma—into his scheme. Dorma was immensely pleased to serve the one who had pulled him out of Jabba's palace alive and unharmed. Though, perhaps, it was all due to a small mental nudge from the former Sith lord.
Revan had a reason for leaving a controlled gang on the desert planet. The leader was subtly conditioned using the Force, establishing a bond to the former Sith lord. Revan had learned this trick from Vitiate during the three centuries his mind was tethered to the Emperor's.
Dorma diligently pretended the Claws served the Cartel, while in reality, he remained the slave of the Lord—the name Revan had introduced himself by during his first visit to the gang's lair.
During the holocomm session, the Tatooine leader of the Claws explained that, according to the orders of their master—Revan himself—they had begun establishing an intelligence network in the Core Worlds. The Claws lacked the resources, both monetary and personnel, to form full autonomous cells. However, sending a dozen capable individuals to key Republic planets was well within their means.
A certain Ran Fevro had been on Coruscant for several weeks. The enterprising youth was gathering information about the true rulers of the Heart of the Republic. The Senate meant absolutely nothing below the third level of the planet-city. Everything was controlled by several major groups who had divided the lower levels among themselves. Notable among them were the Hutts, the somewhat diminished Black Sun, and the Outcasts. The latter never rose above the one-thousand-three-hundredth level and thus rarely clashed with the interests of other major players. Fevro had also heard rumors of a strange pair in black robes, who were responsible for Black Sun's recent woes. Some even put forth the idiotic suggestion that the two were Jedi. They had supposedly even seen a red-bladed Jedi weapon carried by one of them.
To find out more, Ran had joined Black Sun. The gang was actively recruiting new members, striving to rebuild after the swift war with the Cartel.
And now, the Lord himself had contacted him! The same one who, just over a month ago, had transformed the Claws from a common spaceport gang into full-scale representatives of the Cartel in Mos Espa and was on close terms with Jabba himself!
And now, the mysterious Lord was offering Fevro the chance to lead the Claws here, on Coruscant. To Ran's surprised question of how the Claws could appear here, the leader hinted that the Claws would soon grow from the Sun.
"My Lord," Maul's voice pulled Revan from his contemplation.
"Apprentice?" the ship's Master replied, emerging from the meditative trance that the former Jedi had unconsciously fallen into while devising the plan to seize Coruscant's criminal underworld.
"We received a message from Ziro the Hutt," the Zabrak answered, kneeling. "We have the coordinates of all Black Sun hideouts known to the Cartel."
"Good," Revan nodded. "We will obtain the missing portion after HK and Tira complete their mission."
The former Sith lord rose to his feet and used the Force to straighten his cloak, causing the coattails to billow back as if lifted by a hurricane force wind.
The Mandalorian mask, which had been lying on the table until now, floated obediently through the air to its owner.
"As for you, Maul," Revan continued, "I have an assignment for you."
"What is your will, My Lord?" the Zabrak asked, bowing his head in submission and anticipation.
Although the former Sith lord was not a fan of such address, with Maul, it was necessary. His previous master had ingrained Sith etiquette too deeply into the apprentice.
"You will go to the coordinates we received from the Hutts and ensure the necessary conditions for the Sun's rebirth into the Claws," Revan said imperiously. "Destroy their leaders, show our strength, gift them fear, bring them pain."
As the former Sith lord spoke these words, his eyes took on an increasingly golden hue. A slight tremor ran through Maul's body, caused by the sensation of the irresistible power radiating from his master.
Revan, in turn, felt the Dark Side wrap around him like a soft shroud. Its indistinct whisper at the edge of his consciousness grew clearer. It was not a voice, no… but a thought… an intention… a desire.
The former Sith lord remembered this feeling very well. The Force was leading him again, but now it was fulfilling his will, not dictating its own. The Sith used the Dark Side of the Force, bending it to their will, taming its power with their consciousness, their feelings and emotions, using this authority to achieve their desires.
"And when they experience horror and despair," Revan continued, his voice growing colder, "offer them hope. Tell them about your Lord. Let them learn of the Lord who leads the Blood Claws. And bring them to me."
The Zabrak could barely find the strength to breathe. His master's power was overwhelming, burning with the heat of the Force. Maul suddenly felt as if he were not on the ship, but standing on the very edge of a precipice, with the seething magma of Mustafar's never-sleeping volcanoes raging below.
And then, this power stopped pressing down on the Zabrak's shoulders. Instead, he felt a wave of heat seemingly pass right through him, leaving behind… strength! Power!
"Rise, apprentice," Revan commanded.
Maul obeyed.
A true storm raged in his soul. The Force was intoxicating, awakening emotions that the Zabrak struggled with all his might to control. Fear, anger, respect for his master, thirst for power—everything merged into a single hurricane.
Maul could barely stand on his trembling legs and forced himself with a superhuman effort to look at his master.
Revan studied him with an examining gaze. A golden fire burned in the ancient lord's eyes, reflecting the power of the Dark Side that this truly unique Force-adept now held in check.
"Harness your emotions, apprentice," Revan said in an even tone. "Do not try to restrain them. It is impossible."
The Zabrak's eyes widened in surprise. If he couldn't restrain his emotions, how in the name of the Hutts could he take control of them?
His master chuckled, sensing the apprentice's emotions.
"Do not suppress, but control them. Channel your fear; become faster! Harness your rage; turn it into strength! Do not strive to be like me—be better!"
With every phrase, a new wave of the Force passed through Maul's body. He felt his emotions move, flaring up and then fading. They seemed to strain to reach the energy carried by the Great Force.
Maul felt his master, through the newly strengthened Force Bond, direct a barely perceptible surge of energy, which stirred the Zabrak's fear in its wake. Revan was demonstrating how one could control oneself, and, if necessary, an interlocutor.
Maul cautiously let the surging flow of the Dark Side into his body. Following his master's silent instructions, the Zabrak got rid of his fear, using it to strengthen his body. Rage, which threatened to cloud his mind, followed the fear. It was not easy, but Maul grasped the fundamentals Revan was trying to convey.
The apprentice suddenly realized that the surrounding Force no longer pressed, burned, or caused discomfort. No. It enveloped the Zabrak from head to foot, offering a feeling of freedom and boundless power.
"Remember this feeling, apprentice," Revan said with an approving smile. "You are still at the beginning of the Dark Side path. But today, you took your first conscious steps upon it."
"Thank you, My Lord," Maul bowed.
"Now, go. Fulfill your assignment."
"I obey, My Lord."
The Zabrak rose and silently left the ship.
Revan took several deep breaths, calming his emotions and walling himself off from the Dark Side's power, which was insistently trying to push the Sith lord into action.
Having calmed his mind, Revan rubbed his temples and sank into the chair next to the holoprojector. He had not planned to conduct this short lesson for Maul for some time yet. The Zabrak had only just begun to realize the true power of the Dark Side. Yet, the Force deemed otherwise. And in matters of instruction, Revan tried to heed its will. Especially since Maul's training was now necessary for the plan to succeed. A self-doubting Zabrak consumed by fear and malice could botch the mission. And that could not be allowed.
One day, Anakin would undergo the same training. But first, the boy had to learn to handle the Light.
But all that was for later. Now, he had to execute his part of the plan. And it wasn't even the most difficult part.
Twirling the mask in his hands, Revan secured it to his face and left the Dawn's Eagle. HK was due to deliver Kirshaah to the designated location soon. The former Sith lord had no doubt that the droid would follow the order.
Three hours later. Abandoned Cantina. Sector 2311, Level 1011.
Revan was in a semi-meditative state, rotating his lightsaber hilt in the air with the Force. He sensed the approach of Tira and HK long before they arrived and prepared to conduct the interrogation.
However, he did not have to exert any effort to obtain the required information. The beaten and singed Quarren, having lost half of his vibrissae-tentacles, was ready to do anything to be saved from the "droid maniac" and the "crazy mercenary."
"Observation: We processed him a little, Master," HK explained, "to avoid wasting time."
"That knife is going to smell like fish for a week now," Tira added with disdain.
Realizing that the Master and employer of his tormentors stood before him, Slusk began to truly howl and beg for mercy. He answered questions enthusiastically and tried in every way possible to please the masked man standing before him.
From the first minute, Revan sensed the Quarren's emotions and intentions through the Force. Slusk wanted to live and was terrified out of his wits.
The leader of the Kirshaah clan was ready to do anything to stay alive. And that gave Revan an idea.
"Well, if that's all you can be useful for," the former Sith lord began in Slusk's native language, demonstratively shifting his grip on the deactivated lightsaber hilt.
The Quarren flared with pure terror in the Force.
"No! I can still be useful!" Slusk cried out.
"Oh? And how?" Revan feigned interest.
"I… I have many contacts! So many! I work with many Black Market traders! I have access to the Judicial Department's servers!" the Quarren squealed. "I can get anything! And fast! I have the best smugglers in the galaxy working for me!"
The last statement was an exaggeration, but overall, Revan was satisfied with the interviewee's… enthusiasm.
"Very well, Kirshaah Slusk," the former Sith lord said, simultaneously touching the Quarren's mind with the Force, "from now on, you will serve me and me alone. Your clan will join the Blood Claws and execute my will."
"Yes, of course," Slusk replied, nodding vigorously.
"If you try to betray me, you will vanish from this world, dissolving in an ocean of pain," Revan continued, solidifying the influence over the Quarren's mind. "Henceforth, I am your master. And my name is Lord."
Like Dorma, Kirshaah would now follow the will of his Lord, genuinely believing he was doing so by his own volition.
"I obey," was the last thing Kirshaah Slusk uttered before losing consciousness.
The mercenary walked over and poked the unconscious body with the toe of her boot.
"Did you really need all that," Tira rotated her hand vaguely in the air, "high-flown nonsense?"
Revan shrugged.
"It is possible without it, but in some situations, it is necessary. Suggestion acts differently on the mind of every living being. And oddly enough, the consciousness of those who crave power is susceptible to just such… theatricality."
The former Sith lord was certain the Mandalorian rolled her eyes. Unfortunately, her face was hidden beneath the helmet.
"Impatient Inquiry: Master, do we have the next target?" the droid interjected.
"Oh, yes," Revan drawled with satisfaction. "Slusk graciously provided us with the potential coordinates for Black Sun's main sanctuary. According to him, Dal Perhi himself is hiding right there."
The communicator chirped, signaling an incoming message. The former Sith lord pulled out a portable holocommunicator and activated it. A hologram of Maul appeared above the disk held in his palm.
"My Lord," the Zabrak greeted Revan with a bow.
"Report, apprentice."
"I have eliminated the first of Black Sun's three strongholds and discovered something important."
"Expeditious," Revan remarked, surprised by his subordinate's swiftness. "You dealt with a protected target in just a few hours, and without preparation."
"That is not entirely accurate, My Lord," the Zabrak lowered his head. "I chose the least fortified location. Furthermore, I had been in that building previously and knew its layout. I managed to eliminate most of the security before I was discovered."
"Commendable," Revan nodded.
The mercenary and HK scoffed simultaneously.
"Amateur," Tira murmured, barely audible.
"Action Assessment: Below average," the droid echoed.
The former Sith lord irritably shushed them, ordering them to be silent.
"What did you discover, apprentice?" Revan returned to the conversation.
"The location turned out to be something of a brothel for a select clientele. I was fortunate. One of Black Sun's lieutenants was among today's visitors."
"There is no luck, there is only the Force," Revan stated automatically. "What did you manage to ascertain from this individual?"
"His name was Ho Rava-Rava. He provided the coordinates for Dal Perhi's sanctuary," Maul answered with barely concealed pride.
The communicator chirped, confirming receipt of the coordinates file.
"HK," Revan tossed the droid a datapad, "verify this."
It took the mechanical killer only a few seconds to compare the two sets of coordinates.
"Conclusion: Master, the information received from Slusk and Rava-Rava are in complete agreement."
This was a success! When sending Maul on a mission to intimidate Black Sun—to make their transition under the Hutts' wing (and in reality, directly under his own command) easier—Revan had not expected the Zabrak to also obtain valuable intelligence. Now, there was greater credence to Slusk's words. Although the Quarren could not lie to a Force-sensitive, there remained a chance that the coordinates he provided merely led to a meeting point for intermediaries. However, the information from the Sun's lieutenant pointed to the same place. Maul might not have sensed a lie. However, his interrogation methods… Suffice it to say, in the three hours he waited, Revan had managed to ascertain exactly how the previous Black Sun leaders had been eliminated.
"Excellent work, apprentice," the master praised the Zabrak.
"Thank you, My Lord."
"Continue with your mission. We will verify the information received."
"I obey."
The hologram vanished.
Nomad pointedly clicked the grip of her blaster, locking the power cell into place. HK-47 stood motionless, his optical sensors fixed on his creator.
"Well, then." Revan put the communicator away in his pouch. "Shall we pay Mr. Perhi a visit?"
"Inquiry with Hope for a Positive Response: Should we take grenades?" HK asked.
Revan sighed and rubbed his mask.
"Take them," he agreed.
The droid almost sparked with such joy that even Tira noticed.
"Try not to burn up," the mercenary chuckled.
"Anticipatory: Oh, someone is definitely going to burn today," HK stated dreamily. "And it certainly won't be me."
"Let's move out," Revan ordered, heading for the exit.
The droid and the mercenary followed.
Just twenty minutes later, three representatives of the Blood Claws—a Mandalorian, a former Jedi, and an assassin droid—were ready to assault the building of some cantina. However, despite the building's exterior, this was the sanctuary of the Black Sun leader.
There was a heavy security presence, even at first glance.
Four fighters at the entrance next to a bouncer, five on the roof, four four-man patrols circling the building, and the Force only knew how many more inside. And the Force truly did know. And it guided its adept. Revan clearly sensed the presence of nearly fifty sentients, whose emotions were overwhelmingly dominated by fear.
Evidently, news of the destroyed base had reached the local inhabitants. And by this time, Maul may have begun on the next one. The security must have been reinforced. This complicated matters.
HK also detected a video surveillance network, an emergency lockdown system with automatic armored shutters on the windows and doors, and several connected turrets.
It was decided to attack from three directions.
Tira would go via the roof. With her jetpack, reaching the objective would be a matter of seconds. HK would attack the back entrance, making as much noise as possible to draw the main defensive forces on the lower floors. Revan would penetrate the building through a side window on the second floor. It was essential to get inside before the lockdown engaged, isolating the building.
The moment a grenade detonated at the back door and one of the guards fell from the roof, the former Sith lord was already rushing toward the window. The patrol that inconveniently blocked his path was helpless against the Force-sensitive, who used the Force to accelerate and strengthen his body. He passed through the squad like a heated knife through butter. A black lightsaber blade carved two short arcs, ending four lives instantly. The swordsman, without slowing down, leaped six meters high and, sending a Force push that shattered the plastiglass window, flew into the second-floor corridor of the Black Sun sanctuary.
A security turret that reacted to the stranger's appearance was instantly crushed by the Force. And a pair of guards who crossed his path were instantly drawn to the former Sith lord and run through by the plasma blade.
Sounds of fighting and screams could be heard below. The building shook several times from explosions. HK was thoroughly enjoying himself.
"I'm inside," Revan reported via the encrypted channel.
"I am too," Tira's voice came through. "Roof clear, advancing on the fourth floor. Minimal resistance."
"Situation Report: First floor is nearly clear," HK-47 replied. "Resistance is fierce, but only light projectile weaponry is being employed."
"Acknowledged," Revan answered. "According to the intelligence, Pery is holed up somewhere on the third floor."
"I've cracked the internal surveillance network," Nomad reported immediately. "There is a fortified hall on the third floor, isolated from the main network. I'd bet my helmet he's there. Although, it's also an excellent place for an ambush."
"Excellent. Meet me there."
"Acknowledged."
"Confirmed."
The next second, the lockdown engaged. Armored shutters covered the windows, and the lighting switched to emergency mode, plunging the building into darkness.
A squad of six men burst into the corridor Revan was moving through. The former Jedi reacted by sidestepping, concealing himself behind a wall protrusion. Several blaster bolts, fired by the more quick-witted fighters, were deflected by the lightsaber blade. The black blade produced almost no glare, which was advantageous in the poorly lit corridor. Still, it was difficult to mistake the weapon of a Force-adept for anything else.
"It's a Jedi!" one of the guards shouted.
The squad took up positions near the far end of the corridor. The Force hinted that Black Sun fighters would soon arrive from the rear as well.
Concentrating for a moment, Revan struck the consciousness of the screaming guard with a Mind Trick.
"Spiders! Spiders everywhere! They'll eat you alive from the inside!" the former Jedi mentally projected.
The man targeted by the attack suddenly jumped up and began spinning in place.
"AAAAA!!! Help! Get them off me!" he shrieked.
Throwing his blaster aside, the poor wretch began trying to shake off the gruesome-looking arthropods visible only to him.
"Val, shut up and get back behind cover!" the squad commander roared.
However, the man, maddened by fear, didn't care what anyone said. The Force fueled the fear, burning out the victim's mind. Val Ratka—for that was the unfortunate man's name—did not even notice that in his frantic attempt to escape the illusion, he had snagged the detonator of a grenade attached to his belt.
The explosion claimed the lives of the entire squad, as there was nowhere to escape in the narrow corridor.
Revan shielded himself with a Force Barrier, redirecting the shockwave toward the window. The armored shutter held, but the wall segment next to it did not. Part of the structure couldn't withstand the blast force and was ejected outward.
The Force warned him of danger, and Revan spun sharply toward the nearest exit of the corridor, adopting the Soresu Form stance. The blade, held near his head, pointed toward the enemy, ready to protect its owner.
Fighters who burst into the corridor immediately opened fire on the stranger but encountered an impenetrable shield of lightsaber defense. The quick and precise movements of the blade reflected shot after shot, often redirecting the blaster bolts back at the shooters. The volume of fire was clearly insufficient to cause concern for an experienced swordsman, but Revan still decided not to prolong the fight. He needed to move toward the objective.
Deflecting another shot, the former Jedi drew a second blade from his belt and hurled it toward the remaining fighters. The blade, controlled by telekinesis, struck down two more shooters along a complex trajectory. The last one was coldly Force-choked.
Adjusting his cloak, Revan moved toward the access point to the third floor.
On the stairs, he encountered three more fighters. However, something unexpected happened. One of the trio drew a blaster and shot his comrades in the back, killing both before they could even raise their weapons. The former Jedi disarmed the shooter with the Force and pinned him to the wall.
"My Lord, I am on your side!" the guard pleaded when the lightsaber blade lightly scorched the skin of his neck. "I faithfully serve the Claws!"
"Who are you?" Revan asked in an icy voice, already guessing the answer.
"Ran Fevro! I am Ran Fevro!"
The former Sith lord stepped back and lowered his blade.
"I can help," the Claws' operative informed him. "I managed to secure the support of several commanders who are tired of butting heads with the Cartel. They want money and power, and are therefore ready to join the Claws."
The man was not lying. Revan would have sensed it.
"Where is Dal Perhi?" he asked.
"In his 'throne room,' as he calls the place," Ran snorted. "The room is reinforced with sheet armor and heavily guarded. But there are people inside ready to help."
"Excellent. Can you contact them?"
"Of course!"
"Then warn them that we are coming."
"Right away."
Sending the operative ahead of him, the former Jedi headed toward the "throne room."
The third-floor hall greeted Revan with a scene from the chronicles of the Mandalorian Wars. Blaster scorches on the walls, shattered furniture, smoldering wreckage, and two colorful figures finishing off the wounded. HK and Tira were working together with surprising coordination, as if they had been partners for years. Revan had a guess as to the reason, however. The assassin droid possessed exhaustive information on Mandalorian combat methods and tactics. Adjusting to the mercenary was no trouble.
"You're slow," Nomad smirked, turning to the newcomers. "Who is that with you?"
"Our spy in the enemy camp," the former Sith lord nodded toward Ran.
"Observation: Unremarkable for a spy," HK summarized.
"Nevertheless."
"How do we crack this 'safe'?" Tira asked a relevant question, interrupting the discussion of the operative.
"Assessment: Nearly half a meter of durasteel for the door and roughly the same amount of armor plating on the walls," the droid calculated. "Our current ordnance will be insufficient to destroy the barriers. However, the structure's weight exceeds the maximum load-bearing capacity of the floor. Everything is supported by additional struts on the second floor. Suggestion: Detonate the supports and collapse the sanctuary onto the first floor."
"No guarantee that will hurt him," Tira countered. "We need to get inside, not shake the contents like a cocktail in a cantina."
"I can help," Ran Fevro interjected.
"How?" the Mandalorian turned to him.
"There are people inside loyal to the Claws. They can open the door."
"Or I could just cut a hole through," Revan offered, tossing the lightsaber hilt in his palm.
"That's an option," the mercenary agreed.
However, no cutting was required. Ran received confirmation from his associates that they were ready to open the door.
As soon as the trio of invaders took up positions, Fevro gave the signal.
The guards clearly did not expect the attack to come not only from the outside but from the inside as well. The swift battle concluded without serious consequences for Revan and his team. A few scorches on their armor didn't count. Four of the six gang members loyal to the Claws survived the attack. The Black Sun fighters could not counter a Jedi, an assassin droid, and a Mandalorian mercenary, all while their own comrades were shooting them in the back. Revan led the charge, covering his companions with his blade, while HK and Tira reduced the enemy's numbers at a terrifying rate. Stationary turrets were destroyed, and security droids were deactivated by the Force.
The Sun's leader sat on a makeshift throne, composed of crates used to transport weapons and explosives. And despite the fact that his security detail had been wiped out in a matter of seconds, he looked overly confident. Apparently, the barely visible deflector shield surrounding the "throne" gave him courage.
HK growled in displeasure when a shot aimed precisely at the arrogant upstart's forehead was absorbed by the force field.
"How much did the Hutts spend to hire a Jedi?" Dal Perhi sneered defiantly.
Revan slowly moved toward the throne.
"Oh, how menacing we are," Pery drawled. "I wouldn't walk any further, though."
The Black Sun leader demonstratively raised his right hand, which clutched a detonator, and kicked one of the crates at the foot of his throne. The crate sprang open, revealing explosives hidden inside. The detonation button on the activator was already pressed down.
"There's enough here to blow up half the block, so don't move if you value your lives," Pery stated brazenly.
Revan froze in place, but the former Jedi was far from idle. He concentrated, attempting to penetrate the barrier and reach his opponent. It was proving difficult. The force field interfered with channeling the Force.
"Observation: Master, the barrier is powered by two generators. A primary and a reserve. The primary is hidden behind a ceiling panel directly above the throne. The reserve is beneath the floor dome and is currently inaccessible," HK reported via the closed channel.
Since the droid was not using its vocoder, and Revan remained silent, those around them could not hear the conversation.
"So now you'll listen to me," the Sun's leader rose from his throne.
"Proposal: The shield is not simultaneously powered by both generators. The reserve only activates after forty-five hundredths of a second, which causes the shield to deactivate for the same duration," the droid continued. "Recommendation: A simultaneous attack on both generators. A single accurate shot is sufficient to destroy the reserve. Nomad fires first at the primary generator, I follow immediately with the reserve."
The plan was risky. But the alternative was to submit to Pery.
Revan slowly nodded. Tira did the same.
"I admit, you surprised me," Dal Perhi was still rambling. "To come to my home and breach the throne room with only three of you? Talent, indeed."
The mercenary and the assassin droid cautiously prepared to fire.
"Alert: Awaiting command, Master," the droid reported.
Revan nodded again, a movement that did not escape the gang leader's notice.
"I see you nodding," Pery smirked. "So you're the leader? Of course! Who else but a Jedi! Tell me, Jedi, what does it cost to buy a Knight of the Republic?"
"I am no Jedi," Revan replied, simultaneously raising his hand toward the Black Sun leader.
At that exact moment, two shots rang out, nearly merging into one sound. The force field protecting Dal Perhi flickered and vanished.
Shocked by the turn of events, the gang leader remembered the detonator and, with a malicious grin, was about to release the activation button, when he suddenly realized he couldn't move.
Revan slowly approached the throne, holding his opponent with the Force. Dal Perhi's mind proved surprisingly resistant to suggestion. It was a shame to lose such a determined individual, but one does not leave enemies behind. Revan had learned that lesson a long time ago... and at a very high cost.
The former Sith lord walked up to the panting, now former, leader of Black Sun and looked him in the eyes. Hatred, mixed with… joy? All of it was clearly visible in his gaze.
Without uttering a word, the former Sith lord plunged his lightsaber into the chest of his paralyzed opponent.
Only when the last echo of Dal Perhi's life faded from the Force did Revan deactivate his blade and loosen his Force grip, leaving only the hand clutching the detonator motionless.
"HK, deal with the bombs," he commanded. "Tira, dig through their terminals. Maybe we'll find something useful."
The droid and the mercenary, without a word, set about executing the orders.
Revan then turned to Ran Fevro.
"And we have much to discuss with you," the former Jedi said tiredly. "It is time for the Blood Claws to replace Black Sun."
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