The transition from the scorched canyons of Ryloth to the eternal, violent thunderstorms of Kamino was a localized thermodynamic shift that Revan Shan met with a waterproof academic cloak, a fresh thermos of Naboo-spice caf, and a very particular brand of 12th-Doctor-esque investigative cynicism. As 28 BBY etched its coordinates into the galactic archive, the "Prodigal Knight"—biologically 122 years old but looking every bit the sharp twenty-three-year-old—decided that if the galaxy was building a secret army, he was going to be the one to audit the fine print.
The Black Pearl ghosted through the Kaminoan atmosphere, its Automatic Stealth Generator tuned to mimic the high-frequency radiation of the planet's lightning strikes. To the Tipoca City scanners, the ship was just another atmospheric anomaly.
"Right then, Cortana," Revan murmured, his voice a dry, rhythmic rasp. "According to my studies in Advanced Macro-Sociological Engineering, you don't build a million soldiers because you want to be 'nice.' You build them because you're planning a 100% failure of diplomacy. Let's see what the long-necks are hiding in their data-lattes."
I. The Stealth Audit: Tipoca City at Midnight
Revan didn't use the front door. Dressed in his Beskar-weave black robes and hooded cloak, he utilized Force Stealth to become a rhythmic shadow against the sterile, white corridors of the cloning facility. The rain lashed against the transparisteel windows, a localized disaster of weather that he found remarkably soothing.
"Eleven, stay on the frequency," Revan whispered into his gauntlet. "D6, you're with me. We need the primary server hub."
Using his Silver-Phrik Sonic Screwdriver, Revan 'shushed' the biometric scanners of the high-security archives. The Kyber-Cyan emitter trilled a melody of digital compliance, opening the path into the Kaminoan's secret ledger.
"Master," Cortana reported in his earpiece, "I've bypassed the encryption. Accessing 'Contingency Orders for the Grand Army of the Republic.' There are 150 of them. Most are mundane. Order 65 deals with the removal of the Chancellor. But Order 66..."
Revan's eyes narrowed. He felt a rhythmic stutter in the Force as he stared at the code. Order 66. The "Total Unkindness" protocol.
II. The Nexus Variable: The 60-Second Head Start
Revan's hand blurred toward the console, his mind already calculating the mathematical destruction of the Sith's master plan. He prepared to delete the entire sub-routine, to wipe the chips in the clones' heads before they were even born.
Suddenly, the Force didn't just whisper; it screamed. A localized Force Precognition flared, dragging Revan into a high-fidelity vision.
> He saw a version of the future where he deleted the order. In response, the Shadow—the Sith—didn't just lose; they evolved. Without the orderly execution of the Jedi, the Sith released a biological rhythmic plague that didn't just kill the Order; it consumed the 96% of the galaxy. The "Nexus Point" of history was too rigid. To break it was to shatter the galaxy into a hundred million unkind pieces. It would be 100 times worse.
>
Revan pulled his hand back, his 12th Doctor eyes reflecting a fierce, weary sadness.
"I can't delete it," he whispered. "It's a fixed variable. Tidy math, but a localized disaster for my heart."
He looked at the code again. If he couldn't stop the storm, he would at least give the Jedi an umbrella. He clicked his Sonic Screwdriver, its resonance allowing him to edit the hidden parameters of the order without triggering a security alert.
> The Maverick's Amendment (\Omega_{66}):
> Original: "Jedi are traitors. Kill any and all Jedi in sight."
> Amended: "Jedi are traitors. State your intentions and the order issuer to the target. Provide the target with a 60-second head start before engaging. Hunt them down from your proximity."
>
"There," Revan noted, a sharp, clinical grin returning. "It's still unkind, but according to my audit, sixty seconds is an eternity for a Jedi with a starship. I'm giving them a chance to hear the music before the theater explodes."
III. The Template Audit: The Vizsla Stutter
While deep in the servers, Revan stumbled upon the donor files. He expected to see Jango Fett, but his previous "Kindness Intervention"—saving Jaster Mereel years ago—had created a rhythmic ripple. Jango wasn't the broken, vengeful man available for the Sith's needs.
Instead, the file showed a man of brutal, jagged energy: Tor Vizsla.
"According to my 8th Doctorate in Ancient Archaeology," Revan mused, "the Vizsla line is a 1% variable of 'Self-Destructive Arrogance.' And look at this. Pre Vizsla is here too, acting as a secondary genetic stabilizer. Dooku has commissioned Death Watch to be the face of the Republic's army."
He felt the presence of the Mandalorians in a nearby wing of the facility. They were currently auditing their own "Royalties" from the Kaminoans. Tor Vizsla, a man who viewed the Jedi as a statistical error to be erased, was currently the blueprint for a million soldiers.
"Untidy," Revan whispered. "But according to the books, I have a long-position on the factories that build their armor. If they want to be the template, I'll be the one who owns the mold."
IV. The Temple Stutter: Sifo-Dyas and Dooku
Through the Infinite Holocron's remote link, Revan checked on the progress of his "Disappearing Masters."
Master Sifo-Dyas was currently in the Jedi Temple, his mind a localized hurricane of visions. Revan saw that Sifo-Dyas had indeed placed the order for the clones, funded by the hidden accounts of the "Tyranus" variable. Revan sent a localized "Shush" through the Temple's internal comms, an anonymous packet of data that would lead Sifo-Dyas to archive his visions on Tanalorr's remote server instead of the vulnerable Temple archives.
Master Dooku, meanwhile, was slipping. Despite Revan's years of advice, the Senatorial stagnation had pushed him into Palpatine's waiting orbit.
"Dooku is 100% committed to the shadow now," Revan noted to Cortana. "He thinks he's auditing the Republic's corruption, but he's really just becoming part of the overhead."
V. Stress Relief: The Kaminoan Joyride
Before departing the water world, Revan felt the "Academic Heaviness" of his discoveries. He needed velocity. He retreated to the Black Pearl's hangar and prepped the Star-Sass.
"Right then, Eleven," Revan chirped, "Stealth on. Let's see if we can make the Kaminoan planetary security droids question their existence."
The X-Wing screamed out of the storm, a black-and-red ghost. Revan pushed the sublight engines to 2700 KPH, weaving through the support pillars of the Tipoca City domes. He performed high-G "Snap-Rolls" and "Dolphin Dives" through the crashing waves, appearing and disappearing on the security droids' scanners in a rhythmic pattern that spelt out "Maverick" in high-frequency binary.
"Adventure is the journey, Eleven!" Revan laughed, pulling the ship into a vertical climb that broke the atmosphere in a micro-second. "And the journey is better when you're the only one who knows where the exit is!"
VI. The Sovereign Ledger: The 3.6 Trillion Credit Long
Late in the year, back in the quiet of his Sovereign's Command Chair, Revan audited his financial variables.
| Variable | Status | Projected Dividend |
|---|---|---|
| Maverick Trust Long | ACTIVE (Year 3 of 10) | 3.6 Trillion Credits (Expected) |
| Capital Committed | 20 Billion Credits | 200x Leverage |
| Collateral (Liquid) | 26.8 Billion Credits | 100% Secure |
| Order 66 Edit | LOGGED | +60s Tactical Advantage |
"The long position is stable, Master," Cortana reported. "Your acquisitions in Rothana Heavy Engineering and Kuat are already receiving 'discreet' inquiries from the Kaminoan procurement offices. You are effectively selling the Sith their own army's boots."
"Tidy," Revan grinned, the 11th-Doctor-spark flaring. "Take 5% of the current quarterly profit and move it into the Dr. John Smith warehouses on Naboo. I want those medical supplies ready for Ky Narec and his sector. If the pirates get loud, he's going to need the bacta."
The Sovereign's Nap: End of 28 BBY
The year concluded with Revan slumped in his chair aboard the Black Pearl. Calculus was asleep on his lap, and Theorem was curled around his feet.
"Status, Cortana," Revan whispered.
"The Kamino audit is complete. Order 66 is amended. Sifo-Dyas is stable but brooding. Tor Vizsla is the template," Cortana summarized. "And Master... Chancellor Palpatine has been seen visiting the 'Ancient War Tactics' section of the Senate Library. He is 54 years old. The shadow is sharpening its teeth."
"Let it sharpen," Revan yawned, the chair reclining to the Calculated Nap Angle. "Adventure is the journey, D6. And 28 BBY was a masterpiece of edited code and high-velocity storms. Try to be nice, 27 BBY. I have a feeling the audit is about to get remarkably personal."
He closed his eyes. The Maverick was 122, the books were balanced in blood and gold, and for the first time in history, the "Total Unkindness" of the Sith had a sixty-second timer on it.