For landing a small freighter in the spaceport, the small crew was required to pay a mandatory registration fee of 500 credits. The senior assistant, in the form of an assassin droid, suggested solving the payment issue radically, using a couple of thermal detonators as currency, delivered directly to the control room and the administrator's office. However, the ship's captain forbade such improvisation.
However, considering the exorbitant fee for an ancient wreck, Revan seriously considered pulling off the old mind-trick. But on a planet where the Jedi Order is located, attracting unnecessary attention is not advisable.
"With interest: Master, what do you intend to do?" HK-47 inquired, checking a pair of blaster pistols.
"I plan to visit the Jedi Temple and delve into the Order's archives. I have many questions for which I hope to find answers."
The former Jedi sifted through a pile of rags, choosing suitable clothing. It was not advisable to appear in the temple disguised as a mercenary. Nor in a black robe and mask.
"Question: Are you planning a stealth infiltration?"
"Yes, HK. If the rules haven't changed, you can't just get into the temple. And the archives are only accessible to members of the Order," Revan replied, throwing on a light gray cloak. "And, although formally I am still a Jedi, since no one has expelled me, it would be foolish to openly announce my return at this moment."
"Approvingly: Holding back strategic information until the right moment?"
"Including that," Revan nodded, brushing his hair back.
For a minute, the droid observed his creator's actions, but still couldn't find an explanation for them.
"Question: Master, what are you doing?"
"Trying to find something suitable for a young knight," the former Sith critically examined his reflection.
The initial plan to infiltrate the temple disguised as a Padawan was abandoned, as such a disguise would limit his freedom of action. Masters always keep an eye on Padawans. Especially those whose masters are not around. And Revan didn't want to find himself in a situation where he would have to quickly find an answer to the question: where is his mentor? Especially considering that among the Jedi, by name, he only knew Qui-Gon.
However, another problem arose.
"Too young for a knight," the former Sith stated, frowning.
"Suggestion: Scars can create the necessary effect," HK said enthusiastically.
"No, thank you," the ancient prudently moved away from the droid. "I wear a mask for another reason."
"Reasonably: As you wish, Master," HK shrugged. "Suggestion: Perhaps we should use archaic methods of disguise?"
"You mean makeup?"
"Affirmative."
"Not a bad idea. Only, where could I get something similar?"
"Surprised: Three minutes' walk from dock #25, where we are."
"What?"
"Explanation: The salon 'Shine and Sparkle,' according to its HoloNet advertisements, offers various options for altering one's appearance, including the use of artificial hair."
Revan froze, staring at the droid.
"A stylist?" he repeated.
"Affirmative."
It was amazing how he himself hadn't thought of it! Even 4000 years ago, any stylist could change a sentient's appearance beyond recognition. Makeup, a haircut, follicle stimulants for accelerated hair growth – whatever the client desired.
"Excellent idea, HK," the former Jedi praised the droid.
"Proudly: Thank you, Master. When do we leave?"
Taking an assassin droid to the abode of the "Keepers of Peace," as the adepts of the Light now call themselves, was not the best idea. At least, Revan thought so. However, he didn't want to leave HK on the ship either. God forbid, he would get bored. The droid had peculiar notions of entertainment. It was worth giving him a responsible task to keep him occupied.
Glancing at the rusted bulkheads and frayed wiring hanging from the ceiling, the ancient quickly figured out what needed to be done.
"HK, you're not coming with me," the former Sith began, but, noticing how HK-47's head drooped, he continued. "You'll have another assignment."
"Readily: I'm listening, Master?" the killer immediately perked up.
"It's time for us to replace our 'junk heap' with something more suitable. Which means you'll have to work as a salesman. Can you handle it?"
"Question: What are the main parameters of the new ship?" the droid responded impassively.
An answer to this question had long been ready.
"Something as close as possible to the Ebon Hawk, but taking into account the time that has passed. A sufficiently fast and spacious ship, with decent armament."
"Clarification: Wouldn't it be better to choose a military vessel?"
"No. Military ships are not allowed in all systems, and it will be more difficult to get landing permission. Not to mention that such ships are under strict control of the Judicial Forces," Revan dismissed this option. "Freighters are much more convenient in this regard. Does Core Galaxy Systems still produce fast and compact trucks?"
"One moment, Master," HK replied, approaching the HoloNet terminal installed in the mess hall. "Regrettably: Core Galaxy Systems went bankrupt and was bought out by the Corellian Engineering Corporation just three years after your disappearance."
"Do they produce freighters?"
"Affirmative. The most popular are the YT and YV series ships. These models allow for extensive modification of their main systems."
"Excellent. We need a cargo capacity of at least… hmm… a hundred tons. A hyperdrive of at least Class 1… and the ability to control it with a minimal crew. Preferably by a single pilot."
"Understood. There are several options."
"Show me."
"YT-1210, a light freighter, with a cargo capacity of 100 tons."
Above the terminal, an image of a light cargo ship with a disc-shaped hull, with a protruding forward section, appeared. Then came a diagram of the ship's internal architecture.
"Not suitable," Revan shook his head. "Only one laser cannon and no additional ports for weapon systems. And the communications will have to be redone. The network won't withstand the additional load. There's no room in the engineering compartment for a more powerful reactor."
"Agreed, Master. This model does not meet the main requirements," the droid displayed a new image. "YT-1300. A more spacious model with a redesigned weapon system."
The hologram of the Corellian freighter was eye-catching. A spacious cargo hold, two twin turrets in the upper and lower hemispheres, and a well-thought-out power supply network designed for increased power consumption and the use of a more powerful engine and reactor.
"Hmm… not bad. There's room for imagination. But I don't like the placement of the cockpit," Revan turned the image. "The side-mounted bridge is convenient for docking with cargo terminals, but not for maneuverable combat. I prefer the cockpit to be in the center of the bow, like on a fighter. You feel the balance better."
"Understood, Master," the image changed again. "YT-1930, a new model, just released for sale."
Externally, the ship practically copied the previous version, but the cockpit was in the required place, and two additional compartments resembling wings were located in the stern.
Revan liked the freighter. Looking at the image, he couldn't help but smile.
"Not a hawk, but an eagle," he whispered. "Excellent. The cost?"
- With doubt: Around 130,000 credits. No used models, Master.
- "A bit pricey," the Jedi mused, scratching his chin. "How much can we get for selling our ship?"
- With contempt: "Based on preliminary estimates from HoloNet information, this model in its current condition is worth no more than 16,000 credits."
Revan pondered. He already had a decent sum of credits "earned" on Tatooine, but he wasn't about to squander it thoughtlessly. The YT-1930 fit all his requirements, except for its relatively weak armament. But that was easily solvable, given the additional weapon ports on the ship's sides. The cost, however...
- "Master!" HK suddenly exclaimed, his voice filled with joy.
"What happened?"
- "With pride: I've found a suitable option!"
"Which one?" the former Sith asked, intrigued.
- "A prototype model, the YT-1930/FLP, is currently undergoing scheduled maintenance at the Corellian Engineering Corporation docks here on Coruscant," the assassin droid announced. "It's stated on their official HoloNet page. The engineers boast that the prototype flew around the outer rim without a single malfunction. However, they didn't specify whether it was the far or near rim. Nor were diagnostic protocols provided..."
"HK, don't get sidetracked."
- "Of course, Master," the droid stopped reading the article. "With readiness: The prototype is scheduled to be put up for auction with used equipment."
The option wasn't bad. The initial cost of the ship promised to be not too high.
"When is the auction?"
- "Message: The auction is scheduled for this evening. Approximately six and a half hours from now."
"Hutt..."
There was little time for preparation. And he couldn't postpone his visit to the temple. Revan could feel it.
The only option left was to send HK-47 to the auction.
"Oh, I'll regret this," the Jedi grumbled and turned to the droid. "HK, I'm tasking you with going to this auction and buying the YT-1930/FLP ship."
- "With joy: As you command, Master!" the metallic killer snapped to attention.
"But no killing anyone!" the former Sith immediately added sternly. "This isn't Tatooine. We don't need any trouble with the Coruscant authorities."
- "Sadly: As you wish, Master."
Suppressing the bad premonitions associated with buying a new ship, Revan left their rust bucket and headed for the stylist's salon. The stylist, a green-skinned Twi'lek, was not at all surprised by the young man's request to create an "older" image for him.
Thus, the ancient acquired a sparse but neat beard, a couple of decorative scars, and long hair tied back in a ponytail.
It turned out that the "Jedi look" was quite popular in certain circles of Coruscant's fashionistas. So, even a classic Order robe was found, replacing the strange gray cloak Revan had found on the ship.
Three hours later, the former Jedi was heading to the speeder parking lot to finally make his way to the Temple. He hung the hilt of his silver lightsaber on his belt, hiding the second blade in his sleeve. The hilts' casings effectively shielded the crystals, making them difficult to detect in the Force. This was good, considering the strong emanations of Darkness emanating from the darksaber.
Revan also took care to hide his dark side, leaving only the Light, characteristic of the Jedi Order members, "visible." The ancient hoped this would be enough to avoid suspicion. But he didn't want to encounter strong Force-sensitives.
Renting an inexpensive speeder, the former Sith quickly reached the Temple district. Inside, everything tightened with anticipation. He felt he had to visit this place. It was as if he were returning home after a long time.
The Temple was striking in its size and architecture. Massive statues, wide terraces, galleries, and passages surrounding the central ziggurat only added to the complex's monumentality. It seemed indestructible. But Revan knew perfectly well that nothing was indestructible. Even this Temple had been rebuilt several times. And yet, it was magnificent!
"It's a shame you can't see it, Bastila," the ancient whispered.
After circling the complex several times, the former Jedi discovered what he was looking for – a hidden passage at the base of the Temple's second building. Revan didn't want to enter through the main entrance, so he hoped that at least one of the passages he remembered from his training days still existed.
Landing the speeder on the nearest suitable platform, the former Sith made sure he wasn't being watched and, with a few jumps, reached a seemingly ordinary grate blocking access to the sewage system. But beneath this unattractive composition lay the entrance to the temple complex, built by the four founding masters. Revan stumbled upon it by accident as a youngling and, of course, told no one. Even in his time, only a few masters knew about this place. Only a Force-sensitive could open it, as the passage was hidden by several stone blocks. And behind them lay a short passage to the tunnel network intended for the Order's evacuation.
"Unfortunately, they didn't help during the Sith Empire's attack three and a half thousand years ago," Revan thought sadly.
With one movement of his hand, he pushed aside the stone blocks hiding the passage and slipped inside.
The air was musty, indicating a lack of ventilation and thus a blockage somewhere ahead. Unless the Jedi themselves had decided to block this passage, which was unlikely. The condition of the walls suggested that no one had descended here for at least several centuries. And this bothered Revan. There was no light, so the ancient ignited his lightsaber to use it as a light source.
Ahead, a palpable sense of dread wafted. The former Sith recognized the feeling of sticky coldness running down his spine. He felt the same way when walking through the Valley of the Dark Lords on Korriban. The same feeling pursued him on the Star Forge. The Dark Side.
"From where?" Revan wondered at the presence of such a thing within the walls of the Light Order.
The answer came quickly. In the dim light of the silver blade, a figure appeared, covered by a tattered robe. Shifting it slightly with his foot, Revan realized it was ancient Sith armor from Vitiate's era. Its owner had long since turned to dust, but the armor was still strong and protected the remains of its master. A metallic cylinder clanged under his foot. Looking closer, Revan recognized it as a lightsaber. Obeying a momentary impulse of curiosity, he ignited it.
"Crimson," the former Dark Lord stated, examining the shimmering, blood-red blade.
Further inspection of this section of the tunnel revealed the remains of the ancient Sith's opponent. The cloth armor, characteristic of the Jedi Masters of the Old Republic era, was still easily recognizable in the pile of rags by the opposite wall.
Both the Sith's armor and the Jedi's robe bore clear marks from lightsaber combat.
"So, you had a fight here," the former Jedi said, running his hand over the Sith's melted chest plate, where the emblem of Vitiate's Empire could still be discerned. "And both lost."
A vision washed over him like a sharp wave, as if the Force had long wanted to tell him what had happened here.
Revan clearly saw children, younglings, and Padawans rushing towards the exit, urged on by the Order's Masters. Behind them, flashes and the characteristic sounds of fierce lightsaber combat were visible.
Apparently, this was an episode during Darth Malgus's attack on the Temple.
Suddenly, two figures burst into the tunnel – a Jedi and a Sith.
"Your Temple has fallen!" roared the Sith, whose face was hidden by a solid mask depicting a beastly snarl.
Following his words, an crimson blade descended upon the Jedi.
The blow was parried by the green blade of a young Zabrak in a light brown robe.
"The Temple is just a building!" the Order's defender lunged several times. "As long as even one Jedi lives, the Order will exist!"
A somersault and a series of sharp strikes helped the green blade reach its target, leaving a glowing stripe on the mask.
The Dark One howled in pain and tore off the mask. A red-skinned pure-blood Sith, whose eyes blazed with molten gold, demonstrating his unity with the Darkness, glared at the Jedi with fury.
"You will die here, Jedi!" he hissed.
"Perhaps," the Zabrak swayed his blade. "But others will live."
The Sith roared and charged into battle. The red and green blades clashed, reflecting the fury and determination of their owners. The streaks of blows merged into a single flash as both opponents accelerated to their limits.
It all ended in the blink of an eye. The irreconcilable enemies parted ways. The head of the dark adept was separated from his body. The Jedi, however, slowly sank to the wall, clutching a wide wound on his chest. Yet, there was a smile on his face.
He had managed to protect the children. Even at such a price.
Revan found himself back in the dark tunnel, amidst the remains of ancient warriors. Both fought for their beliefs, for their Order. And both fought valiantly.
Twirling the Sith blade in his hand, the former Jedi placed it on the armor's chest plate. Then he found the Jedi's second blade and laid it on top of the wide gash on the cloth armor.
"Rest in peace for eternity in the Great Force," Revan said, bowing his head.
A barely perceptible stream of air swept through the tunnel. The Force was calming. The emanations of Darkness grew weaker. The echo of the long-past battle gradually faded.
The ancient moved forward, towards his goal.
Soon, it became clear why everything was so neglected here. The path was blocked by a cave-in. Judging by the condition of the stones, no one had even tried to clear it. Perhaps due to the aura of Darkness that permeated this tunnel. Or perhaps because no one remembered its existence. After all, those who came to restore the Temple after the destruction of the Sith Triumvirate were mostly from distant enclaves. Few were familiar with the Temple's layout and its secrets.
Revan cautiously checked the blockage and the space behind it with the Force. No one was nearby. The abandoned reserve armory on the other side was clearly not in use, and the tunnel entrance was blocked by a wall. This meant he could cautiously clear the passage without fear of detection.
Clearing several tons of stones, even with the Force, took almost half an hour. The wall blocking the passage had to be partially dismantled. However, the effort was worth it. After almost four thousand years, Revan – the fallen knight, the Dark Lord returned to the Light, stepped once again under the vaults of the Jedi Temple.
"Welcome home," the ancient said with a smile. "Time to see what it has become."
Emerging from the lower level, Revan immediately realized that the Temple had been thoroughly rebuilt. He didn't recognize the corridors he was in. Previously, there were ammunition storage and an engineering laboratory here... Now, this building resembled a complex of training halls and meditation rooms the most.
The interior decoration of the halls and passages was traditionally kept in a strict style with minimal ornamentation. Which, however, did not prevent them from being quite elegant.
Once, adepts of the Light Side bustled everywhere here. But now... there was silence all around. It gave the impression that this wing was not used at all. Which was quite possible, considering the low number of Order members compared to the Old Republic era.
Deciding to trust the Force, Revan moved forward in search of the Main Hall. Encountering sentient beings was a sign that he was on the right path.
After almost half an hour of wandering through similar corridors, he reached his goal. Before his eyes lay a huge hall with dozens of multi-meter columns supporting a vaulted ceiling several stories high.
The scale was astonishing! Although the former Jedi had seen this place in ancient times, upon returning here, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the beauty of his surroundings.
"Haven't been home in a while, Knight?" a woman's voice sounded from behind.
Revan turned and saw a young Mirialan with bright blue eyes and a diamond-shaped tattoo pattern on her chin. A friendly smile played on her face. Her black hair was covered by a traditional headdress.
"Yes, it's been a long time since I've been here," Revan smiled back. "Don't take it as disrespect, but I don't know your name."
"Luminara Unduli, Jedi Master," the woman bowed slightly.
"Avner Van, Knight," the ancient replied to the bow, using the name Kandereus had invented during their search for the Mandalorian mask.
"I haven't met you before either, Knight Van," the Mirialan said, peering intently at his face. "However, your face seems vaguely familiar."
"I spent a long time wandering, trying to find myself," the former Jedi did not falter.
Such journeys were not uncommon in ancient times, and he hoped that a similar tradition existed in this era.
"Oh, I see," she said, slightly surprised. "I didn't think anyone had been away for so long in the last few years."
Revan shrugged with a smile.
"Please forgive me, Master Unduli, but I have urgent matters to attend to," the former Sith tried to take his leave.
"May I accompany you, Knight Van? I would like to hear about your wanderings. It would be useful for my lessons. I teach several classes for younglings twice a week."
Refusing help would not be in the Order's traditions, so Revan had no choice.
"Of course. Although, I doubt you will learn anything new for yourself."
"The value of knowledge is unique to each sentient being," the girl said instructively. "What is boring routine for one is news for another."
"I cannot disagree with such wise words, Master," the ancient nodded respectfully. "Will you escort me to the archives? I intend to study some additional information to better understand what I have experienced."
"Of course," the Mirialan turned towards the exit of the hall and waited until Revan caught up with her.
This was to the former Sith's advantage. She would show him the way.
However, he had to be careful what he said, or he could get into trouble.
"So, Knight Van, tell me, where have you been?" Luminara began the conversation.
"Mostly on Dantooine," Revan replied, naming a world he knew well.
"Oh, trying to find the ruins of the ancient enclave?"
"Ruins... so that's what the Jedi enclave on Dantooine has become?" the former Dark Lord thought.
"Yes. However, alas," he spread his hands, showing the sad result of his imaginary search.
"And another Knight, who dared to lift the veil of the past, has encountered the relentless flow of time," Unduli said, closing her eyes.
"Precisely, Master," Revan agreed. "But I was able to learn an important lesson from it."
"Which one?"
"The past, though important, should not influence the present. I lost several years on fruitless searches, although I could have spent them more usefully."
The Mirialan laughed, covering her mouth with her hand.
"You should definitely attend my classes and tell some of the particularly active younglings about this," she said with a smile.
"Certainly," the former Jedi assured her.
By this time, they were passing by one of the training halls, the door to which was open. The ancient couldn't resist peeking inside, drawn by the familiar sounds of a working lightsaber.
In the middle of the wide room stood a small Zabrak girl, holding a training saber. Opposite her stood a slightly older boy, clearly showing off, drawing intricate figures with his lightsaber.
"Don't even try it, Rina," Revan heard the boy's voice. "I convinced Master Dooku to show me a few Makashi sequences. Now my defense is impenetrable."
As if confirming his words, he swung his saber to the side, described an arc, and then finished with a sharp lunge.
The girl logically missed the thrust and cried out when the training saber poked her arm.
"Ha, I told you!" the boy smirked.
"A simple dance of the half-moon," Revan said almost inaudibly, more to himself.
"Strange, where is the instructor who should be supervising the training?" Luminara wondered.
"I think they decided to practice on their own," the former Sith shrugged.
"This can be dangerous."
"One second," the ancient interrupted the woman, noticing how the boy was preparing to attack with the same move again.
The little Zabrak clearly didn't know what to do. She didn't want to lose, Revan could clearly feel it through the Force, but she saw no way to win.
"Rina, step forward with your left foot, turn your body, and set a sliding horizontal block," the former Dark Lord commanded loudly.
The girl followed all the instructions precisely, only flinching from surprise, which pleased the ancient.
Her saber blocked the boy's saber, scraped along the plasma arc with a screech, and struck directly at his unprotected chest.
"I did it!" the Zabrak exclaimed joyfully, deactivating her saber.
"Well done," Revan praised her from the doorway.
"Thank you, Master!" the girl said shyly. "And who are you?"
"Avner Van," the former Jedi bowed.
The budding conversation was interrupted by Luminara Unduli.
"Younglings, why are you training without supervision?" she asked sternly.
"The Masters were busy..." the boy mumbled.
"That's no excuse," the Mirialan cut him off. "Return to your rooms and do not repeat such things in the future!"
"Yes, Master Unduli," the children replied in unison and, placing their training sabers on the racks by the walls, left the room.
And Revan and his companion continued their movement through the corridors.
"Are there still not enough instructors?" the former Dark Lord broke the silence first.
"Yes," Luminara nodded sadly. "The Ruusan Reformation greatly weakened the Order, even if not everyone admits it. There are too few of us even to train the next generation. What will happen next?"
"I'm afraid to guess."
"Everyone is afraid... that's why they don't start this conversation," the Mirialan sighed. "And we probably won't either."
"As you say."
"You understand swordsmanship very well, I presume? To be able to react so quickly?" the girl changed the subject.
"Yes, I dedicated a lot of time to physical training. The galaxy is far from being as peaceful as its inhabitants want it to be."
"Indeed," Unduli nodded in agreement.
Suddenly, the ancient felt a powerful surge of rage and irritation, causing him to involuntarily reach for the hilt of his own saber. The Mirialan, however, merely winced.
"What is that?" Revan asked, subconsciously preparing for battle.
"Master Windu is training his Vaapad again," Luminara said, rubbing her temples.
"Vaapad?" Revan asked.
"Yes, it's his own fighting style. Some call it the new seventh form."
The interested former Sith took a few steps towards the door from which this emotional surge was emanating.
"You shouldn't disturb him," the girl tried to stop him, but curiosity was stronger.
Slightly opening the door, Revan saw a dark-skinned Korunnai, who was wielding a purple lightsaber with furious speed. Lunges and swings alternated with flips, somersaults, and other acrobatic elements. The man was clearly using his emotions to enhance his body and will, which was characteristic of the seventh form of the saber – Juyo.
However, in Revan's opinion, the chaos unfolding in the room had nothing to do with Juyo.
"How... crude and clumsy," the ancient thought. "Like a child, annoyed by a broken toy, swinging a stick hoping to punish everyone for his 'grief'."
"It's mesmerizing, isn't it?" the Mirialan whispered.
"Uh-huh," Revan grumbled, finding the sight rather repulsive.
"Is he trying to recreate Juyo from descriptions and eyewitness accounts?" the former Sith, a master of the seventh form, mused mentally. "To use emotions so thoughtlessly... to come so close to the Dark Side... And this is a Master of the Order?"
He himself remembered perfectly well how much time it took him just to prepare to master Juyo. How he trained to "walk the edge," to dose his emotions so as to always be at peak form without crossing the line.
But what the Korunnai was doing... It was as if he couldn't control his mind at all. Emotions erupted in waves, as if this Master momentarily released them, but immediately suppressed them completely, fearing the Dark Side. Such surges, though partially effective, were too damaging to the psyche. Revan wouldn't be surprised if he learned that this Korunnai had a very hot temper and suffered from fits of anger.
"We should move on and not disturb Master Windu," Luminara reminded him.
"Yes, of course," Revan agreed.
As they walked through the corridors towards the archives, only one thought spun in the ancient's mind – "What has the Order become?"