REVENGE OF THE SITH
Part III – To All Things, A Beginning
Ord Mantell
To a former smuggler like Jayden Korr, Ord Mantell was certainly the place to land when one was out of fuel. He had set a course for Yavin 4 when his fuel light had come on and he had to make a quick and hasty landing on the planet of Ord Mantell.
Ord Mantell was known as the ‘heart of the bright jewel’ for it’s place within the Bright Jewel system. It had once been a military outpost for the Republic and with the ongoing battles with the Sith, it was getting slightly more attention than usual.
It was also a free port for freighter and cargo ships, as well as being the host to the annual Blockade Runners Derby. As Revan came off his shuttle, he noticed the heavy amount of clouds that were tinged with pink hues and for some reason, that put a smile on his face. He had decided that Yavin 4 would be his last stop, but now that he had been beached, his thinking settled on finding his friends.
He was back in Republic space.
He was finally home.
“So buddy,” came a voice, belonging to the man that would be fueling his ship. “I hate to rain on your mental parade there, but you’re gonna have to pay for this, you know.”
“I thought Ord Mantell was a free port.” Revan retorted, slightly agitated at being interrupted.
“Yeah.” said the man. “To freighters and cargo ships and you certainly aren’t traveling in neither one.”
“Alright, alright.” Revan sighed. “How much?”
“Fifteen.”
“Fifteen credits?” The knight repeated, happily. “Oh, that’s not so bad.”
“Fifteen thousand.” the man huffed, clearly irritated.
“Credits?!” Revan exclaimed. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“And you’ve got to be a moran.” retorted the man. “Don’t you watch the news? Ever since Peragus blew up, the fuel’s been going up. You can thank the Exchange for that, too. I wish they’d go back to hunting Jedi.”
Revan looked at the man in confusion. “I’m sorry.” he said. “Did…did you say Peragus blew up? As in that mining planet, Peragus II?”
“Man, where have you been?” The man asked, astonished. “Under a rock!? That fragging thing happened like months ago and it totally fragged Telos, too. And to top that, some fragging idiot Jedi puts that General Vulku in charge of Onderon. I swear, man, those fragging Jedi are a bunch of fragging idiots!”
Revan stood, mouth open in shock. Peragus II was gone? And some Jedi had overthrown the queen of Onderon? What the hell was going on here? “So anyway, buddy, that’s fifteen thou for the fuel.”
“I couldn’t possibly persuade you to lower that, could I?” the knight asked, sweetly.
“You do and I’ll yell at the top of my lungs you’re a Jedi and seeing as you haven’t heard about the fuel, I’ll tell you that Jedi are going for quite a price and I could use some dough, if you get my meaning.”
Revan nodded, smiling at the man. “I get your meaning.” he replied. “Listen, I’m a llittle short right now, but I have a sure way to get some extra creds, so if you’d be so kind as to watch my ship?”
“Sure.” He got into Revan’s face saying, “You stiff me, I kill you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” he gulped. Any other day, Revan would have a go at the man, but on this day, after learning what he had, he didn’t think it would be a good idea to cause trouble.
“Point me in the direction of the local drinking establishment?” The man pointed to the south and Revan had nothing but bad feelings on that.
Ord Mantell’s seedy side was…pretty seedy. Located in what the locals called the ‘red light district’, they hadn’t been kidding. There were baudy signs, all done in red, that blinked off and on, even though it was the middle of the day and the fact the sun should’ve been shinning in this part of town. It wasn’t terribly seedy – not as seedy as some of the places he could imagine – but it was seedy enough to make a note of it.
But this was where the swoop racing and dueling rings were, as well as a good stiff drink. He walked in to the cantina, its darkness and smoke filled room causing him some slight dizziness.
The room was packed with people, most he could discern as bounty hunters and pilots working for the Exchange. Taking a deep breath, he did his best to conceal his lightsabers within the sides of his pants and jacket cuff, and headed for the bar.
He had to push his way through a couple of Gamorreans – using a little Force to make sure they’d leave him alone in case they’d met up again – and made his drink to the bartender. He looked around, trying to find a spot to sit, and came up empty. So he did his best at mingling through the crowd.
Though his memories of Jayden Korr were false, they did help him when it came to blending in with a bunch of rough necks and certainly the patrons within the cantina took no notice of him. In his yellow – orange Republic jacket and black fatigues, he looked like any other smuggler who needed a job.
He wandered through the crowd, listening to the boasting of the new dueling champ and that of the swoop racer. He smirked, listening to them, knowing that if he so choosed, they would be yesterday’s news. He was still smiling when a blinding pain pushed into his body, causing him to push himself into a rodian that was passing by.
He quickly apologised, suddenly making his way to the door. He had several more painful attacks, all of them feeling as though his very soul was on fire. He managed to stumble outside and find an abandoned alleyway where his body met the ground in agony.
Kreia…
Oh Force, she was dead. His master, his mentor was dead and she had died painfully. That alone brought tears to his eyes. Kreia is dead. But how? She had been fine when he had last seen her, though he worried about her fall to the darkside.
Had she been usurp, as so many masters by their apprentices? But if so, why did she feel…pained? Kreia is dead. She had been a mother to him and despite not truly knowing about their times together, he had sensed her love for him, even as he warned her of the path she traveled.
Kreia is dead.
If Kreia was dead, what of the HK-47? And the T3-M4? He had given her the Ebon Hawk and with that, the droids he travled with. Had they met the same end as well? Did that mean no one would be able to help him on the rest of his quest?
The Sith had to be stopped and now it seemed Kreia had unleashed another wave of Sith followers. Revan couldn’t do this by himself; he needed the help that he had tried to get his master to seek. And what of Ellis Yoly? Had he encountered this new Sith uprising as well? Had he even been able to be found?
The former Jedi master gathered his wits about him and stood up on shaky legs. He would get to the bottom of this and try contacting T3 tomorrow. For now, he would find somewhere to mourn his master’s death and plan his revenge on those that killed her.
Revan had taken two days to mourn the passing of his master and to heal from her death. He hadn’t realized he would feel her so strongly still, after all that had happened to him, but he had long ago come to realization that no matter what the Jedi Council had done, he was still Revan within himself and his mind.
If Force bonds are created by master to student, of course he would feel her death, especially when he believed it to be at the hands of the new Sith that were stalking around. When he found them…
It also brought up some rather…unpleasant thoughts on his bond with Bastila. He had done things he had not been proud of, had tapped into that dark sided part of him that he never wanted to touch; with their distance so far from each other, he wondered if she had felt the stirrings his journey had brought out and most importantly, what it had done to her? He worried about her, about everyone.
He knew little about what had been going on within the Republic since his departure and what he had learned disturbed him. He didn’t know what to expect. Had this new following discovered what he had? That the True Sith lie in wait, waiting for a time to strike? Had they already joined up and were making plans?
He shook his head and downed his drink.
He came earlier into the cantina this morning, wearing a long robe that would not only conceal his weapons of choice, but that of his features as well. Though he didn’t truly care for the beard he sported, it did make it harder for people to reconize him and he needed the element of being inconspicuous.
It also shielded the fact that he was trying to send out a message to both T3 and the Ebon Hawk, without much success. He waved his hand to the waitress that he wanted another drink and tried contacting the droid again.
“T3, can you hear me?” he asked. He stopped once the waitress had returned. He shifted in his chair in order to reach a better signal. “T3, can you hear me now? I hope you get this. I…damn!”
He looked up at the small alien who had bumped into his table, thus spilling his drink all over. “Stupid, son of a…” He glared at the small alien, who quickly hurried away, without so much as an apology. Revan again motioned for the waitress.
“T3, this is Revan. Do you copy?” He shifted again. I really hope you’re able to get this. It’s time, T3. You need to bring the Ebon Hawk with you. I’m on Ord Mantell. I need you to contact Bastila or Carth, okay? It’s very important. They need to know where I am, okay? T3?”
Revan looked around him, noticing a few people staring at him. “I need to go, all right? Ord Mantell, all right?”
He quickly stopped his conversation as he noticed a young woman seated away from him and staring. He didn’t know how many times he could contact the little droid and certainly not in a public place. He impatiently tapped his leg, all the while staring at his drink. And suddenly, he heard a distinctive beep.
He immediately broke into a grin and began to give the little droid coordinates to one of the moons that circled the planet. It would be too risky to meet on the surface of Ord Mantell, but Revan had learned during his stay of the moon tours and how most people hadn’t even seen the entire surface of either of them.
That was a perfect place to meet.
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